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His lips only curled.

“Can’t. I have friends coming in for the weekend.” Brock’s voice was a bit farther away, making me think they were walking as they talked. He was maneuvering them toward the door.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of Micah’s shorts, clasping the material. My nails skimmed the edge of his stomach, and the muscles there quivered. Lust and a heady sense of female power whirled inside me. He wasn’t the only one who could play this game.

“Bring them,” Sterling said.

Such a friendly guy, I thought sarcastically. His lack of morals and decency was why I’d been drawn to him in the first place. I hadn’t wanted good and sincere; I’d wanted someone who wouldn’t get attached or ask questions.

Sterling had done neither—at least I hadn’t thought so at the time. Maybe I’d left a lasting impression? It didn’t matter. I wanted nothing from Sterling, and the sooner he backed off, the better. The line had to be drawn in definite blank ink. We could be friends or friendly but nothing more.

The moment the door to the locker room swung closed, muffling their voices, Micah’s hips ground into mine as he took possession of my lips. My body went on sensory overdrive, spinning me wildly out of control. I no longer cared where I was or how I got here in the first place. The conversation I’d overheard was forgotten. All that mattered was Micah.

His name became a chant in my head as rolled his hips into mine again. The hardness I felt through his shorts sent heat radiating between my legs, punching a soft moan through my lips, only to be captured in our kiss.

“God, I love when you do that,” he breathed, his mouth hovering over mine.

My hands took a tour up his chest, starting low at his solid abs before slowly exploring the plane of muscle. His skin was hot, and he was so fucking hard.

The button on my white shorts popped up, Micah’s fingers fumbling with the zipper. “Let me touch you,” he implored, his voice husky as he kissed a path down my neck, leaving no spot unadorned.

His eyes were half lidded as they looked at me, need churning in them. “I’m not stopping you,” I whispered.

I was lifted in the air and pushed against the lockers. My legs locked around him as he pressed into me, his lips covering mine for a brutal kiss that didn’t last long enough. He lowered his mouth to my breast, taking my nipple between his teeth. I gasped, my head dropping to the back of the locker, and arched into him. His fingers came to the front of my shorts, fumbling with the zipper. “I need you naked,” he panted. If I’d been wearing a skirt instead, he would have already been inside me.

His lips fused to mine again as his finger looped inside my shorts, but as long as we stayed in this position, they weren’t coming off. I wiggled, unfolding my legs.

A locker slammed shut, echoing throughout the room as if a rifle had gone off. I jumped, pulling away from Micah like we’d just been caught making out in my bedroom at home.

We stared at each other for a few breathy moments, our chests rising and falling rapidly in sync. I could read his expression. It was the same that was reflected in mine. Did we say screw it and keep going or let our senses return?

He waited until the lingerer left, slowly returning my feet to the ground, and hooked his finger under my chin, drawing my face up to look at him. “Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

I rested my hands on his bare chest, the scent of him screwing with my thoughts, scrambling them. “Here, like right this minute? Because I thought it was pretty obvious what we were doing.”

“Maddy,” he growled, not finding my avoidance cute.

It took me a moment to respond and form coherent words, my entire body still buzzing, little electric flutters pulsing between my legs. “I have a very good explanation. It’s a long story, though, and I don’t even know if you’ll believe me.” We kept our voices low, because despite the locker room being mostly empty now, the shower in the other room still ran, meaning we weren’t completely alone. Not yet.

“Try me,” he challenged. From the hard set of his jaw, I could tell we wouldn’t be leaving until he got answers.

“I came to see you.”

Micah lifted a quizzical brow that didn’t look content with my response. “That’s your long story?”

“No,” I huffed, toying with the ends of his damp hair. Nerves made me want to pace, but he wasn’t letting me budge. “Do we really have to do this—” My eyes flicked from corner to corner. “—in here?” I whispered. “What if someone else walks in?” I asked, clearly uncomfortable.

The water running in the shower turned off, bathing the locker room in eerie silence and driving my point of getting caught home. What were the odds that whoever emerged would come down this particular row of lockers, stumbling upon Micah and me? I didn’t want to take that chance.

His eyes dipped to my lips, and some of the harshness in his features softened. “You’re with me. It’s fine.”

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth, a gesture that drove him crazy. “Oh really? So, guys bring girls into the locker room all the time to seduce them?”

Wickedness flashed in the center of his eyes. “Under the bleachers, in the bathrooms, on the coach's desk, in the storage closets. There are a hundred different places we could be doing this.” As if he needed to show me what he meant, his lips cruised over my cheek.

My heart drummed in my chest, quickening. “Your mind is seriously warped,” I said with no real bite to my tone, zipping and buttoning my shorts.

“Maybe we should continue what we started…” He crowded me with that edible body, smelling of pine and hints of the sea, his hands flattening against the lockers on either side of my head. My hands on his chest automatically wove up around his neck or risked getting smooshed between our bodies.


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance