I want to kiss Devlin Murphy. Even if it’s fake.
Devlin catches my eye. His expression is hungry. My heart pounds faster and my breath hitches.
God, I’m messed up.
Devlin winks before stealing the ball lightning-quick from #11, a vicious grin stretching his face as he directs the ball around. Eleven seems pissed off. Devlin heads for the net, unstoppable as he closes in on the target. I hold my breath, my palms tingling. If Devlin scores now, the game is over.
“Go!” I yell, breathless.
Devlin lines up the perfect shot between the two defenders. His foot connects with the ball and my heart stops as it soars into the net.
I clap so hard my hands hurt. This is only a practice match, but something about the win has my excitement exploding free.
Bishop and the other Silver Lake High players yell like banshees. Defeat hangs over the opposing team. Devlin circles the field with his fist in the air, ending his jog a few feet in front of me. The rest of his team’s celebration fades into background noise as Devlin’s arm slowly drops.
This is it.
His intense look pulls me in, making my feet move like I’m possessed. I’m still clapping as I reach him. My cheeks hurt from beaming.
“Nice goal.” I swallow thickly.
Devlin makes a rumbling sound in response, stepping closer. His hands find my hips. He smells musky as he hovers his lips over mine, hair hanging in his face. Devlin breathes out and it coasts over my mouth. I swallow again.
An ache twists low in my stomach and between my legs.
Devlin cups my jaw. His warm touch lights me up. It feels like damnation, luring me in and dragging me under into the sweetest hell.
He brushes his thumb over my cheek and pins me under his heavy-lidded gaze. “You want to earn that bonus?”
His words sting with the truth of why we’re doing this, but I don’t care. I’ll face that later. I tilt my head up to accept the kiss.
With a quiet growl, Devlin covers my mouth with his, immediately pushing his tongue past my lips.
When we come together, we’re volatile. Rough. A violent storm hellbent on battering each other.
He claims my lips with power, control, the same unstoppable force from the field putting me under his spell. My fingers fist in his white and green jersey.
The kiss heats like a five alarm fire, blazing and engulfing us in desire. I didn’t expect him to kiss me like this, like I’m his favorite meal. I don’t know if he is equally taken aback, but judging by the muffled groan that vibrates against my chest, I have an idea.
A sound hitches in the back of my throat as his tongue slides with mine.
Devlin’s fingers press into my cheek and jaw. He wraps his arm around my waist, holding me close like he wants to be the only one to possess every part of me.
The ache between my legs intensifies. This is too much.
I push away from him, gasping. I press my hand over my swollen lips.
Devlin’s eyes are hooded, his pupils bottomless pits that swallow his dark eyes. He drags his fingers over the sides of his mouth.
His attention falls to my tingling lips. He tightens his hold on my waist, like he wants to pull me into another kiss. I plant a hand on his chest to stop him from sweeping me up again.
Before either of us can say anything about the kiss, Devlin’s teammates crash into us, celebrating the win.
“Yeah! Man, that was such a good shot!”
“Did you see that play?”
“The devil is back!”