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It was the only warning I gave before kissing her. She sank into my embrace immediately, without holding back. Her lips parted, and I slid my tongue inside the warm cavern of her mouth, tasting her. My hand finally worked into her hair, sinking deep and cradling the back of her neck. Her long, slim neck was so vulnerable, a column so easily bent this way and that. At odds with her iron-like will to be a stubborn brat. She was a mix of contradictions, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She’d wormed her way into my head with her sweet poison, taking over my thoughts. I couldn’t afford to be distracted, and yet, whenever I closed my eyes, there she was.
My other hand was on her hip and then her waist, sliding up the slope of her belly to her breasts, sadly covered in thick material I could barely feel her through. I put both hands on her ass instead and hauled her against me, grinding on her. We were making out like horny kids, instead of adults who could have just fucked out their intense attraction. There would be no fucking under Melly Martino’s roof, though. It was another rule.
So, I kissed this woman who had turned my life upside down in just a few short weeks. I kissed her hard until she clung to me and then rested my forehead on hers, catching my damn breath. Who got breathless kissing someone? Maybe I was coming down with something. I knew we only had a few seconds until my mom came searching for us. She’d start with Eve’s room, suspecting her and Beckett to be up to more bad behavior than me and Winter, seeing how Eve and Beckett were practically engaged.
I stepped back and gave Winter some space to sort herself out. Her dress was wrinkled, her hair a mess, her lips red and puffy. Her Majesty undone, just the way I preferred her.
Right on cue, a knock sounded behind her, and she nearly jumped into my arms away from the closed door.
“Kids, dessert is ready.”
“Coming, Mama,” I called back, adjusting my raging hard-on in my jeans as best I could. I jerked my head at the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Winter
Dinner with my parents was such a huge success that they invited Asher to play couples tennis with us at The Dunes on Monday. While I’d rushed to make excuses about classes, he’d calmly accepted.
I waited outside the sorority house the next afternoon, wearing the new tennis outfit I’d just bought.
Asher pulled up on his bike and flipped up his visor to look at me. “You got underwear on under there?”
“I’m beginning to think you’ve got panties terminally on the brain.”
“Only yours, DeLaurie.”
I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Did you bring whites?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t embarrass you.”
I pulled on my backpack stuffed with rackets and a change of clothes, then shoved on the extra helmet Asher handed me. He set off with a roar, and I clamped my arms around him, resting my head against his back. We were at the club in no time.
“So, you’ve played doubles before?” I asked him as we dismounted.
He took my helmet and clipped it to the bike along with his. “Nope. Never.”
“But you’ve played tennis, right?” I followed him into the country club.
“Maybe in tenth grade gym? I can’t really remember.”
I stopped in the foyer, a sinking sensation in my gut. Oh my God. He was going to embarrass us both, and the days of my dad’s approval were numbered.
“Should I fake being ill? I can do it. At HHH, I had a record for getting out of gym class for nearly two years,” I told him.
He chuckled. “Have faith, Winter. I’m sure I can play a little tennis…well enough to beat you, that is.”
I folded my arms over my chest, indignation drowning out my worry. “Excuse me, I’ve been taking lessons here for years. You think you can just pick up a racket and be better than all that practice?”
Asher smiled, his hands in his pockets. He rocked back on his heels. “Don’t be jealous. Some of us are just naturally athletic.”
“Bite me, Martino.” I shoved past him.
“Later, I promise,” he murmured in my ear before sloping off to change.
I fanned my face. I felt hot, even though it was barely thirty degrees out and we’d be playing indoors. Maybe I was coming down with something?
Yeah, right. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with the surprisingly smooth bad boy who stared at me with warm dark eyes and a devilish grin that would tempt a nun.
He made you feel special when he smiled at you. That was what it was. It was his superpower, and if I wasn’t careful, soon I’d be in his thrall. Soon? Right.
