All Lined Up (Rusk University 1)

I run a hand down over the curve of her breast, her ni**les hard through the thin fabric of her tank top. I lean down, capturing one in my mouth while I settle my hips against hers.

“Oh God.”

I flick the tightened nub with my tongue through the fabric, and she shifts her hips up into mine, rubbing against me. I smooth a hand up her thigh, loving the curve of lean muscle as it leads up to her ass. I cup her, pulling her hips up while I press down, and she moans.

I lean back up to take her mouth. “I’ve missed hearing that noise, and I want to hear it again and again. And I will when we’re not in your father’s house.”

She shivers beneath me, and pulls her legs up tightly around my waist.

I slide my hands up to tangle with hers where they still rest above her head. I let more of my weight fall against her, until it feels like my chest is melded against hers. With our foreheads pressed together, I look into her heavy-lidded eyes, and for perhaps the first time ever, she doesn’t look wary or scared.

“I’ve missed everything about you.” I place a gentle, lingering kiss on her mouth before pulling back. I roll off her, tugging her with me so that we’re facing each other on our sides. “I don’t want to spend one second more than I have to away from you, but for now, for tonight, I need to go.”

“Wait!” She squeezes my hands tight and brings them closer to rest between us on her chest. “Can you stay? Just for a little while longer?”

I resist the urge to look at her door, to worry about how close her father is right now. Instead, I nod, and she snuggles in close, wrapping her arms around my middle.

“We’ll figure it all out, Dallas . . . how to make things work with your dad, and how to get past the things that scare you.”

She grips the back of my T-shirt, pulling me in even closer.

“The things that scare me . . . It might take some time.”

“We’ve got plenty of that. Why don’t you make a list?” I grin. “We can just check off one thing at a time.”

“A list, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I do like lists.”

“That’s something that we have in common.”

She pulls her head back from my chest, and I tip my face down to meet her eyes. She says, “Honesty?”

I nod back. “Always.”

“Honestly . . . I want you more than I ever thought possible, and sometimes that makes me want to run because I don’t know how I would survive losing you. Sometimes I hold people at arm’s length, so that it’s harder for them to hurt me.”

“I’m not at arm’s length now,” I say.

“No.” She cracks a small smile. “No, from the very beginning I couldn’t resist letting you in. That’s why you terrify me so much.”

“Listen to me, Daredevil.” I smooth a hand over her cheek, then across her forehead, wanting to wipe away the worried lines there. “You asked me once what fixes me the way dance fixes you. I’m still not sure I’ve found that thing that pulls me together, but I’ve found who pulls me together. You’re the only thing that makes me feel better when I’m tired or frustrated. You’re the thing that quiets all my worries and doubts and fears. You’re it for me. So run if you’d like, but I’ll follow. You can try to hold me at arm’s length, but I’ll never stop trying to pull you close. Be scared if you must, but you’re not going to lose me. Not unless your dad comes in and finds me here, then neither of us will have a choice.”

She laughs and leans up to press her cheek against mine.

“You’ve got me awfully close to saying those three big words that we’re probably not ready for.”

“Is that so?”

“Just warning you, so when I slip up you’ll know I tried.”

She’s parroting my own words back at me from the night we met. I kiss her again before pulling myself out of her arms and back to the window. Before I make my exit and head home to rest for the night, I whisper across the room, “I look forward to that slipup.”

Chapter 30

Dallas

I can’t sleep after Carson leaves. I’ve got this stupid grin on my face, and for the first time I feel the sting of being trapped back in my childhood home. If I were still living in the dorm, I could have gone with him . . . spent the night wrapped in his arms.

I hug one of my pillows close, but it’s not the same. I add another, trying to make a more Carson-sized lump, but there’s no replicating his warmth or the hardness of his muscles.

Also . . . I feel massively pathetic.

That doesn’t stop me from reaching for my phone on my bedside table and dialing him.

He answers on the second ring¸ his voice low and gruff and oh so perfect.

“Dallas? Are you okay?”

“Did I wake you?” I ask.

“No. I just laid down. Is something the matter?”

“Yes. I can’t get my pillows to be Carson-shaped enough. It’s a problem.”

He chuckles, and I wish I were there to hear it rumble through his broad chest. “Good. I would hate to find myself one day replaced by pillows.”

I don’t have anything else to say, and I’m just over here smiling, but he can’t see that. And now I feel like an idiot for having called him.

“Does the team have to be at the parade in the morning?”

I hear rustling, and imagine him shifting in his bed.

“No. That’s more of a fraternity and sorority thing. And it’s too early on a game day to convince any of the players to be there.”

“Oh.”

I’d already told Stella I would go. I’m meeting her on campus at 7:30 A.M. so we get a decent spot. I was shocked Stella was actually willing to roll out of bed before nine, but she’s pretty adamant about getting the full college experience. Now that I know he won’t be there, I’m much less excited.

Floats schmoats.

“I know one player who might be convinced to attend, if you were going.”

“Oh really? Is he cute? Is he a receiver? I’ve always kind of had a thing for receivers. Torres seems fun.”

He actually growls on the other end. “Don’t make me come back over there, Cole.”

If only.

“Did I say receiver? I meant quarterback. Silly me, I get all those positions mixed up. Football is just so confusing.”