The Hook Up (Game On 1) - Page 64

“Move your butt, you big mountain,” I grumble.

He starts to snicker, which sets me off. We both laugh and curse as Drew slides by me and I half crawl to the passenger seat, only to feel a tug on my skirt.

“Shit! I’m stuck on the stick.”

Drew laughs harder.

“Don’t you dare make stick jokes,” I warn through a laugh.

“I’m too busy trying to get my ass out of the steering wheel.” His shoulder crushes my chest as he wiggles, laughing so hard—he’s as clumsy as I am. “Fuck, why did you not put the seat back?”

“No. Ow. Would you move?” I yank at my skirt but his thigh is pinning my calf to the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Obviously. Hold up.” His ribs shove in my face as he bends over the driver’s seat. There’s a loud click and then we’re falling as the seat zips back. Drew twists, landing on the seat, his arm wrapping about my waist and pulling me with him. I end up on his lap with a thud, and Drew’s pained grunt. My bent leg is awkwardly braced on his chest and putting me off balance.

“Seriously, Jones,” he says, still a bit breathless from our laughing fit, “if you wanted to get in my lap, you only had to ask.” He puts a hand to my back, keeping the steering wheel from digging into my spine.

My cheeks hurt from grinning. “You caught me. It was all part of an evil plan to turn us into a human pretzel. Watch your head. Leg incoming.”

He ducks his chin as I lift my leg up and over his head, effectively straddling his lap with my knees tucked under his arms in the tight space. Not very comfortable, but who am I kidding? I like where I am.

The position, however, bunches my skirt around my hips. Instantly, his free hand lands on my exposed thigh. “You cold?” he asks quietly, as he begins to rub it to keep me warm.

I shake my head, my voice having fled. How can I be cold with his firm, heated torso this close to mine? His heartbeat is steady and hard beneath my palm.

“Did I hurt you anywhere?” He eases me closer still, until my br**sts pillow his chest.

“No.” Face to face, all I can see is Drew colored pale blue by moonlight, his eyes gleaming and dark as they study me. His gaze lowers to my lips and stays there, as his grip becomes firmer, laden with intent. Heat invades me swift and strong.

His mouth. So close. Close enough that our breath mingles. I love his mouth, the lush shape of it, and I don’t even know what it tastes like, how it feels. His fingers press into the flesh of my thigh, as though he needs to hold onto something, and my gaze flicks up to meet his.

A pained expression there, and a plea.

Drew will never take from me. Not unless he knows I want it too. Tenderness mixes with the pervasive heat inside of me, a heady stew that has me sinking further into his embrace. Carefully, I trace his jaw, the texture like fine sandpaper against my fingertips.

“Anna.” It’s whisper of sound.

Holding his gaze, I lean in. My lips brush his. So gently it’s barely a touch. But it’s everything. I feel it down to my toes. Drew sucks in a sharp breath, his body going tight. So I do it again. Stronger. More sure. Clinging just a bit to his lower lip.

And then he groans. His fingers thread into my hair, clutching tight as he tilts his head and kisses me back. It isn’t hard or frantic. It’s a warm, melting exploration, as if we’ve fallen into the middle of a kiss, tongues sliding, lips melding and parting in a slow rhythm. And I ignite, burning brighter than the sun. Sensation, want, need, surge through me on a moan that’s lost in his mouth.

Drew shivers. His fingertips run along my neck, my cheek, and back down again, as his lips nuzzle and suck on mine. Going deeper, having more of me every time. And every time my heart clenches just a bit harder within my chest.

Dizziness swamps me. There is no up or down, just Drew. Drew’s mouth. His taste and his heat. I want to sink into him, drown in his touch. I tremble, whimpering in frustration as I rock against his erection and open my mouth wider for his kiss. He holds me tighter. Grounding me.

“It’s better,” he says inside a kiss.

“Better?” My hands roam the plains of his chest, the rounded swells of his shoulders. I’ve missed the feel of him against me.

“Kissing you. It’s better than I imagined.”

I hadn’t let myself imagine. I touch his cheek, and our gazes collide. My breath grows short. My heart actually hurts. “Drew.” I don’t know what else to say. But it seems enough for him right now. He holds me like I’m precious to him, like he wants to fuse us together.

“Come home with me,” he whispers between kisses that are growing more urgent, fierce. His skin is damp, his body shaking as hard as mine. “I need you, Anna. I need you in my bed.”

I can barely keep my eyes open. My clothes smother me. Sweat tickles down my back, and my thighs tremble with need. And I can’t stop kissing him. Deep, light, hard, soft. It’s too much. I knew it would be. I am lost in him.

“Anna…” His voice is weak now. Rough as his breathing.

“Yes,” I manage. “Yes.”

Pressing his forehead to mine, he nods once, his fingertips still roaming over my face as if he needs to memorize it by touch. “Okay.” Another seeking kiss. “Okay.”

19

I STAY IN his lap as he drives us home. It’s stupid and dangerous but neither of us are thinking very clearly now. It’s not an option to move off of him, to let him go. Drew’s arm remains wrapped around my waist, his big hand clamped on my hip as if he’s afraid I might change my mind, try to escape.

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