Not My Match (The Game Changers 2)

“Are you going to sleep on the elevator?” Devon’s voice breaks into my thoughts. I shake my head and step off, following him back to the penthouse.

He comes to a halt in the kitchen, his back still to me, the lines of his stance tense and drawn, as if he’s battling some internal struggle. Well, that’s me, I guess. My fault.

“You don’t have to carry through with our agreement to get naked,” I say curtly as I cross my arms. I’m annoyed and hurt.

He turns around, hands clenched.

Well? my eyes say.

He stalks over to me, getting into my space, and I walk backward, my hands touching the wall for balance. His head dips, and his green eyes rake over me, lingering on my cami, taking me in all the way to my “Really a Waitress” red toes that Myrtle painted for me when she stayed over. “The problem is, Giselle, I want to be naked. I want to be all over you, inside you. I want to make you helpless underneath me, own every inch of your skin, until you smell like me, until you don’t know where you start and I begin. I’m itching, my hands, my fucking hands . . .” The palms of his hands slam the wall on either side of me, caging me in. “Want to be in your hair; they want to strip you down and make you scream my name when you come. Then, I want to do it all over again.”

My lashes flutter.

“Tell me how you really feel,” I gasp out.

One of his hands slaps at the wall, jarring and loud, but I don’t flinch, because it’s Devon, and he’d never hurt me. Low and harsh, his voice is broken, as if dragged over rocks. “This is how I feel. I’m laying it out for you so you know the truth. Fucking is just sex to me, Giselle. No feelings. None of that emotional yearning stuff from your movie. That’s who I am. Is that what you want? One night with someone who won’t care about you the next day? Someone like a guy from your app?”

“It’s not like that,” I say sharply.

“Isn’t it? That’s what it will be with me. I’d fuck you and walk away.”

My heart squeezes. “From me?”

“Yes,” he growls, running his nose up my throat, his teeth nipping at my ear. His scent wraps around me, thick and heady. “Decide. Now. Do you want to fuck?”

That dirty word, from his mouth, directed at me, sets me alight like a match to fuel. Tremors start at my feet and work their way up until I can’t form a coherent thought.

His chest brushes against mine as he presses a hot kiss to my neck, sucking at the skin. I pull his head to me, wrenching his mouth off my neck, truth staring at me, his eyes brimming with lust and promise.

I’ve made comments to him, flippant ones, about having sex just to get my virginity out of the way, but realization and clarity, and him right now, paint the truer picture. Having sex just for the sake of sex—no, that isn’t who I am, and it never was; otherwise I wouldn’t be a virgin. At any point, I could have given in to Preston’s demands, but I never went there, because it wasn’t right, a small kernel of wisdom that just knew. For months, I floated along with him, trying to extricate myself from him, not sure why and pretending like nothing was wrong. Part of that was guilt over Elena, but the rest was me, all me. He wasn’t right for me. Neither was the lacrosse player from high school or the kind of boyfriend in college.

Is it Devon? Yes, this moment, his heavy-lidded gaze on me, the visceral need that’s pouring off him, it feels damn perfect—if I want my heart broken.

My body wars with my mind, wanting him, the heat between us so hot it feels tangible. If I say yes, if I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his lips to mine, we’d be rolling around on the floor in a heartbeat. He’s ready to pounce, hanging back by a tiny thread. Desire, dark and beautiful and intoxicating, swirls low in my body, aching and pulling. He’s right here, waiting for me to answer, his chest twitching as he holds himself incredibly still. One little nod, and he’d do all those wonderful things to me, and then I’d be a nonvirgin—and very unhappy the next day. Still, still, I want him, and my body screams that it’s worth it to hold him and kiss him and feel he’s mine, if just for one night. My fingers twitch to delve into his dark hair, kiss him, and get lost. My chest inches closer to him, feeling that warm connection that drags me to him like a magnet.