The Jock by J.L. Beck Page 0,53
Does he actually think I’d come on to his friend? It’s time to own up to what I was doing.
“I didn’t mean to come in here. I thought this was your room.”
Thank God the shirt he gave me is long. Otherwise, I would’ve flashed Murphy my bits. The harsh lines in Cage’s face smooth out, and he looks relieved. He thought I was going to come on to his best friend.
“This is epic.” Murphy moves to the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless and in a pair of boxers that hang low on his hips. Muscles for days reflect back at me, and I realize then that Cage is dressed similarly. Jesus, I’m surrounded by GQ models.
“Shut the fuck up!” Cage orders, pointing his finger at Murphy.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He chuckles, but the smirk on his face gives his lie away. He was totally going to say something.
Probably something crude, with a sexual innuendo attached.
Cage looks down at me with a smile that causes a fire to stir in my belly and offers me his hand. I take it and climb to my feet, my embarrassment only grows because now Cage knows what my intent was, as does Murphy.
It’s official, I’m a mess. Also, I should’ve stayed in my cold bed. At least then, my cheeks wouldn’t be burning, and I wouldn’t have to face Cage.
“Changed my mind.” Murphy snickers as we walk to the door. “I do have something to say. I want to make it known that this is the first time I’ve ever had a girl in my bed where she wasn’t screaming in pleasure.”
“You’re an idiot.” Cage tosses the remark over his shoulder before guiding me out of the room. Grabbing the door handle, he slams the door closed before Murphy can respond. I hold back a grin. These two are so full of themselves.
Without a word, he grabs my hand and tugs me toward his room. Just outside the door, he stops, turns, and looks down at me. His throat bobs, and his eyes shine with uncertainty. I can tell more now than ever that he isn’t used to this. Taking things slowly, asking before taking, or giving. The girls he’s used to aren’t anything like me, and they want one thing and one thing only.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispers softly.
Am I sure about this? I don’t know, but I worry if I turn around now, I may never get this chance again. I want this with Cage. He sees me, and I see him, the real him, the one no one else gets to see, and that means something, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.
“I want you,” I say, almost shyly. Cage’s eyes flicker with heat, and I know the words have set him ablaze. He wants this, wants me, has for a long time. I bet he never stopped wanting me even after I poured the beer on his head.
“There isn’t any rush, Blair,” he says, twisting the doorknob. He opens the door and motions for me to walk in. “We don’t have to do this. Sex can wait.”
I walk into the bedroom, and Cage shuts the door, closing us inside. He walks over to the bed and flicks the nightstand lamp on, illuminating the room with a soft glow.
“Who is to say I was coming in here for sex?” I try and lessen the embarrassment I’ve endured so far by playing coy.
As soon as my eyes adjust to the light, I peer around the room. It looks nothing like I expected it to. There isn’t any garbage, or clothes littered on the floor. It’s actually clean and smells like him, earthy with cinnamon. There’s a queen-size bed against the far wall with grey sheets and a matching dresser on the adjacent wall.
A TV is mounted to the wall above the dresser, and there’s another door, which I assume leads into a closet or bathroom. I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge of it, bouncing a few times. It feels soft, but firm like I could sink into it.
“Now that you’re done looking around the room like it’s an HGTV episode, tell me why else you would be coming into my room.”
I snort and decide to play dumb. “To cuddle?”
Cage stalks toward me, his eyes are hooded, and when he pierces me with his gaze, I shiver. The intensity in his green eyes steals the air from my lungs. Tipping my chin up