Page 46 of One Pucking Time


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“You’re already wearing his number?”

A white 24 was nestled next to the evergreen tree above the team’s name. Two little characters that had Bash losing his mind.

“Mac gave me the sweatshirt.”

“It’s like he’s marking you.”

“Says the guy who conveniently left a handprint on my ass?”

His eyes lit up. “Did he see it?”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look, Bash.”

“Here.” His face softened, and he tugged me closer to him. “If I hold you like this, I don’t have to look at it.”

“What’s your problem with him?”

Bash puffed out an exhale and traced his finger down my lower back. I shivered, but pressed through the desire to drag him to my bedroom.

“Bash?”

“He’s irresponsible.”

“How?”

Bash brushed his lips against mine and pressed our foreheads together. “Do we have to talk about him?”

“Yes.”

He groaned and dropped onto the couch, pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve known him since he signed with the Evergreens. He is literally living for himself—”

“Yeah, he’s young, famous, and good looking. If I had the life he has—”

“No. You’d never be like him. You’re too good—”

“Don’t tell me you have me up on some pedestal.” I searched his eyes and caught a small wince. “Bash. Don’t put me up so high I fall.”

“I’d never let you fall,” he murmured, stroking my thigh.

I could feel the hard length of him through my pants and debated begging him to bend me over the couch and have his way with me.

But I had a feeling Bash would tell me when and how we would have sex for the first time. And probably every time after. He was constantly in tune with what I wanted, and I could stop him with a look, but he liked to be in charge.

My quiet, protective Bash.

In all the years I had a crush on him, it never occurred to me he would be so stern.

Or that I would love it so much.

He pressed his hands against my thighs and brushed his lips against my ears. “We have to go to work.”

I whimpered in protest.

“Em—”

“Just one more minute?”

He slipped his hand up my sweatshirt, caressing my back, and I cursed the fact jobs were necessary as his lips pressed against my neck.

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