On the Sideline (BSU Football #3) - J.B. Salsbury Page 0,54

okay? Introducing you as my friend seemed wrong—”

I kiss her again. “It was perfect. I love the way it sounds.” And I think I love you.

The elevator pings and we step out into a hallway that smells like new paint. The marble floor is polished to a shine, and before Bex even opens her door I know what’s inside is going to be the best that money can buy.

“Whoa…” The condo is dark and the entire city of Los Angeles shines through the floor to ceiling windows that cover one-hundred-eighty degrees of the wall space. And the view from the thirtieth floor makes the city look like a billion different colored fireflies. “This is incredible.”

“Meh.” She flips on the lights. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just, I’m really sick of living off my parent’s money.”

“Why?” If I were here I’d milk the VIP treatment as long as I could. After the way her mom treated her this morning, I’d do it out of spite if nothing else.

She comes alongside me and stares out at the view. “Whoever has the money has the control.” She looks up at me. “I’d rather be dirt poor and free.”

“That makes sense.” I want to tell her she can come live with me and be dirt poor, show her the perks of living on a budget, paycheck to paycheck, the art of eating on eighty bucks a week.

She snags the remote off the coffee table and powers up the sixty-plus inch flat screen. “Want to watch a movie?”

I stare at her profile while she flips through channels, following the line of her cute nose down to her lips, chin, and neck.

“Karate Kid is on, that’s a classic. Or we can get theater movies…”

At my silence she turns to me and whatever she sees reflected in my gaze makes her lips part. “No TV then.”

“No.” I prowl toward her and take her into my arms, kissing her the way I’ve wanted to kiss her since that night in the rose garden but never could for fear of who might be around or where it would lead.

She breaks free for air, and I worry she’s going to tell me we need to slow down or chill out. Instead, she shocks me when she pulls at the hem of her tank and removes both it and her flannel in one swoop, leaving her in nothing but jeans and a navy blue, silk bra.

My hands reach forward with a mind of their own and I take a few precious minutes to feel the soft skin at her waist, up her ribs to her breasts, and around her back where I pop the hook and peel her bra away. Her breasts are full and tipped with rosy pink. I cup them and groan at the satisfaction of their heat heavy in my palms. “You have the sexiest body.”

She pulls at my T-shirt and I release her for only as long as it takes to get my shirt over my head and tossed across the room. I expect her to give my chest the same treatment I give hers, but instead she cups my hard-on over my jeans. “So do you.”

A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “We’ve been depriving each other of what we both want for too long now.”

She pops the button on my jeans and slides down the zipper, her hand slips down the front of my boxer briefs and grips me with intent.

A hiss of pleasure rips through me. I wonder how it’s possible to be touched the same way by different women yet have her touch feel so much better. “My turn.” I give her jeans the same treatment, but rather than settling for having them unzipped I shove them roughly down her legs until she’s forced to kick off her shoes to get them off.

Our lips come together in a rush and our bodies follow suit, her breasts against my ribs, and our hearts pounding. My hands roam the soft skin of her back and I reach down to grab her silk-covered ass. She groans into our kiss and I drink down the sound until I’m drunk with desire.

I hoist her up and she wraps her legs around me. “Bed.”

“Hallway, door on the left,” she says against my lips before delving her sweet tongue inside.

With each step my jeans fall lower and by the time I make it to the king sized bed they’re around my ankles. I place her on the bed, and

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