Page 48

I paused, about to get off the bed. “What? You just said you would, why are you repeating it?”

He held up a finger. “I’ll give you the floor if…”

Fuck, I should’ve known. This motherfucker.

“If you give me a kiss.” He tapped his lips with the finger he was holding up, then let it fall. His tongue slowly slid along his bottom lip as his eyes lowered to my mouth, the heat in them overwhelming.

“No,” I said immediately.

He shrugged. “Guess you’ll just have to sleep in my bed then. I don’t mind taking the floor.”

Annoyance shot through me. “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t tell me none of this is for sex and then demand sexual favors!” I threw the remote to the end of the bed and slid off the mattress, stalking up to him.

“I wouldn’t say that’s what I’m doing.” He tilted his head as he stared down at me, amusement and desire in his gaze.

He made me want to rip my hair out. I grabbed the front of his shirt in two tight fists and seethed, “Yes it fucking is and you know it. Stop fucking with me, Court. I’m not in the mood.”

Before I could pull away, he covered my fists with his hands and held me tight to his chest. The muscle underneath was firm, the heat of his body seeping through his shirt into my skin.

“Just a kiss,” he murmured, and I felt the vibration of his deep voice in my hands. “Just one. Please?” He took a half a step closer, towering over me. His eyes were half-lidded as he kept staring at my lips, and an itching self-consciousness started creeping along my shoulders. No one had ever looked at me so intensely.

He lowered his head, dragging my hands up his chest, sliding them up the soft skin of his neck until he curved my palms against his cheeks.

His eyelashes were so long, the dark blond complementing the light green of his irises. His pupils were dilated, completely fixated on my lips. “I can hear your heart from here,” he whispered, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Fuck you,” I hissed, yanking one of my hands away and slapping it over his crotch. I squeezed as hard as I could.

“Fuck!” he shouted in surprise, pulling away from me. And then he doubled over in laughter, hands on his knees. When he raised his head and looked at me, there was so much warmth in his eyes that it took me aback. “You call that a kiss?”

“Yes,” I snapped, stepping back. “Fuck off, Court.”

He laughed, and just when I thought he might push things, he said, “Alright. I’ll show you how the rest of the world defines it another time.” He stepped around me and disappeared into the bathroom, and a moment later I heard the sound of the shower.

I wanted to say something else, but I was exhausted. I grabbed two of his pillows and propped them at the top of the little nest he’d made for me. I settled in, unable to ignore the fact that he was right there, on the other side of that door, naked and wet. Flashes of Court without a single scrap of clothing on bombarded my mind, and I tried to shove them away. Focus on the western I didn’t give a damn about.

But I couldn’t. Images of him naked began pouring into my mind, filling up every last bit of space.

Hard muscle everywhere, water running down his chest, dipping between his abs, trailing lower. I wanted to watch him getting hard for me, because of me. I wanted to lick every drop of water from his skin. I wanted to kneel in front of him, run my fingers up his thick thighs, nip at the skin of his taut abdomen and trail little bites down to the crease of his groin. Grab the base of his shaft and lick the tip. Swirl my tongue around the head and then take him deep into my mouth. Feel his groans shudder through him, let him pump into me, let him fuck my mouth and my throat and take his pleasure⁠—

The door to the bathroom flew open, and I tried to switch my focus back to the TV.

Shit.

I forced myself not to look. I heard the bed creak, the shuffle of the blankets, and then Court appeared on the bed above me and asked, “Do you need anything?”

I glanced up at him, my gaze drifting to the wet strands of his blond hair.

“No,” I said, a little too huskily. I dragged my eyes back to the TV and cleared my throat. “How’s your leg?”

He didn’t say anything for so long that I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me. When I glanced over at him, he was watching me with an incredibly self-satisfied smile. “It’s alright,” he said. “I think. Can you look at it for me? I’m not quite sure.”

Court’s bed was enormous, but then again, so was he, so even with him lying down there was still room to spare. He swung his legs over the side and planted his big feet next to me on the ground, sliding to the edge of the mattress. “Here.” He tugged his sweatpants up until they were bunched below the knee. I studied the wound, which had stopped bleeding but was still an angry-looking red. He hadn’t put a bandage over it, and it also didn’t look like he’d put any kind of ointment on it.

I didn’t know why he wanted me to look at it. I wasn’t a damn nurse. I scooted closer to his leg, tentatively reaching out to press light fingers on the skin around the wound. When I glanced up at him, he was gazing down at me intently. “Does that hurt?” I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, but for some reason I was playing his little game.

He didn’t answer as I kept touching him, so I paused and gave him a stern look. “Court.”

“Mm.” His elbow was resting on his thigh, and he’d tipped his head onto his palm, just staring down at me.