Hook Shot (Hoops 3) - Page 143

The laser probe of his stare snaps back to my face. “And you think us breaking up will make everything better?”

“I think us taking a break,” I emphasize, “while she gets the help she needs could make her feel like she’s first with you, and that’s what she needs from you and Bridget. To feel like she’s your priority. Like you’d do anything for her, even stop seeing someone.”

“I don’t agree, and I’m not giving you up.” He takes my arm. “Why would you leave me now when I need you so much?”

There’s such dismay in his question, such an ache in his voice. It pricks my heart like a needle, passing through the beating muscle and piercing my soul. I love him with everything. My heart, my soul, my body, my mind. There is no part of me he hasn’t laid siege to. I’m an occupied city. Completely his.

And yet, I keep wondering if my mother felt so consumed by a man, even an evil man, that she couldn’t do the right thing. Couldn’t do the thing that needed to be done. Couldn’t let him go when she needed to, when she had to, but chose her own desires, right or wrong, over her child.

“We’re the adults,” I force myself to say, even though my voice shakes, my resolve shakes. “I’m not saying it’s forever.”

I meet the outraged disbelief, the refusal of his stare.

“I can’t be away from you forever,” I say softly. “You already know that, Kenan, but I am saying for now, for her, let’s just step away from this. At least for the season. As if basketball isn’t enough of a distraction while you’re negotiating this, you don’t need me, too.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says. “I need you so bad.”

He pulls me into him by my wrist, and the smell of him, the heat of him, seduces me. I close my eyes and savor the light press of our bodies together. I imagine the grind, how it feels when he’s buried inside of me. When will I have that again?

“I want it, too,” he whispers in my ear his hand sliding to my ass. “What you’re thinking about right now. What you’re remembering. I want to fuck you, too.”

“Kenan, don’t.” It’s a pathetic protest overshadowed by the way my body throbs with him so close.

“I love you,” he says, his voice a wisp of sound and breath over my lips before he captures them with his. His tongue hunts for mine, seeking, seizing. My convictions fade, and I kiss him back. He groans, his hands fumbling between us and under my dress. His unfailing fingers find me through my panties.

“God,” he breathes, pressing his temple into mine. “You’re soaked.”

“Kenan, we can’t.” I say it, but my hips roll into the urgency of his hand. My clit flowers under his fingers.

“Why can’t we?” He kisses my neck, sucks the curve hard, and walks us a few feet back until my back hits the wall. “You’re mine.” He unzips his jeans and hoists me up by my thighs, pressing me into the wall.

“Did you forget?” He asks, his voice gruff, graveled. “You said you belong to me. Are you a liar?”

“No. You know I’m yours, but we need to do this for her. Can’t you see that?”

“This is what I see. What I know.” He jerks my panties aside and plunges inside of me like a warrior charging into battle.

“Oh, my God.” I can’t resist the call of our bodies fused together, and I rock into him, heedless of my intentions, damning my plan. My pussy clenches around him, possessive, demanding.

“That’s it. Fuck me, Lotus,” he breathes into the paltry space left between us while our aggressive thrusts thump my back into the wall. “Tell me whose you are, whose I am.”

I score my nails across his head, sink my fingers into his neck with a ferocious desire borne from desperation. When this is over, I’ll make him go, and I’m not sure when I’ll have him again.

“My beloved is mine,” I quote, my head thrown back, tears slipping f

rom under my closed eyes. “And I am his.”

“Again.” His hands tighten under my thighs and he slams into me, the churning of our bodies furious, frantic. “Tell me again.”

“My beloved is mine and I am his.” The words come louder, harder as my climax builds.

“Again! Tell me.”

“My beloved is mine and I am his,” I scream so loud the words scrape my throat and ricochet off the walls.

“How dare you think you can take this from us?” he growls into my neck. “A fucking break? There’s no break. No separation. Tell me again.”

“Oh, God. I’m yours, Kenan.” I shake against him with my sobs, with the orgasm thundering through my body even as I weep. “You know I’m yours.”

Tags: Kennedy Ryan Hoops Romance
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