folds her arms over her chest. “You do train women, right?” she asks once I stop laughing. “I’ve worked out with A&M football players for three years, I think I can handle you.”
She’s referring to West and Austin Rutledge, and Jeff Parker, and a few others I suppose, but her tit deserves a proper tat. Dipping my brows low and keeping her locked in my sight, I circle, placing her between my body and the bag. She licks that bottom lip the way she does, scratching her teeth across the thickest part. If she were smart, she would recognize the absolute feral desire she awakens with that trick. Or, maybe she is smart.
“But can you?” My head cants. “Exactly how many players worked you out?”
“In the gym, Carter,” she repeats, backing into the bag until the rope and chain anchoring it in place draw taut and she’s using her palms to keep the bag straight. Her nose wrinkles as her teeth sink into her lip.
“Yeah, sure, in the gym.” My palm settles beside her face on the bag.
Jess turns her head, her eyelids falling half-mast as her gaze travels my arm from wrist to shoulder before further exploration. The heat of her stare burns like skin contact as it touches over my chest and circles my abs. Another few inches and she’d blush at the tent pitching in my shorts.
I rest my forearm by her head, working my fingers through the hair gathered in a ponytail. “What if the workout I want to give you is, shall we say, more?” I ask, inhaling her unidentifiable sweet scent.
“Let’s start at the gym and see where it goes?”
I take her hip in my fingers. “You know where this is going, Jess.”
An arched brow rises. “You think?”
I counter her brow raise with my own. The electricity between us is undeniable. Yes, fifteen minutes ago I convinced myself we were two people with a crapload of issues that should walk away from each other, but now her body is inches from mine, and my fingers sink into the curve of her hip and … fuck, forcing myself to care about our problems is impossible.
Her hand circles my wrist at her hip. “I don’t want to be hurt, Carter. I can’t deal with it. The shit with my dad … that’s all I can take.”
I smooth over the crown of her head, my thumb grazing her forehead before moving my hands to cup her face. “I wouldn’t hurt you.” I mean it. I’m surprised at how much truth is in those words. Hurting her is the furthest thing from my mind.
“This is such a bad idea,” she argues on a whisper, but the softening of her body nullifies her point.
The flat of her palm lands on my ribs, and I hold my breath in my lungs as her fingertips pepper over my skin. She moves up my chest and over my shoulder, her touch light and tentative.
“This will blow up in our faces,” she predicts.
We share this partial embrace for two beats, then I’m done restraining myself.
“It might,” I say, lowering my head. “But, hey, it’ll be one hell of an explosion.”
My tongue licks over her bottom lip, and Jess hugs around my neck. Give me strength, she fucking whimpers in a way that turns my dick to steel and I suck her lip into my mouth and bite. Relishing in the countering sting of her nails digging into my skin.
“Fuck.” Inhaling, I close my eyes and line our faces up—forehead, nose, mouth. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that,” I admit, my lips teasing hers with each word.
She laughs against my mouth. Withdrawing, she holds my gaze. Her eyes are the darkest of brown with no flecks of gold or honey. Deep, fucking, rip-my-heart-out brown. “What else have you wanted to do?” she asks.
Many things, my Little Aggie. Many. Many. Things. My smile must be downright dirty. Running my nose across her cheek and down her jaw, I brush her ear and kiss her lobe. “Do I have permission to show you?”
She hums her approval—no need to tell me twice.
Taking her by the hips, I draw her from the heavy bag. “If you’ll indulge me, I need to satisfy curiosity.”
Her arms fall to her sides, and she lifts a brow, the working of her calculating mind wrinkling her forehead. She’s deciding if she can trust me with her body. I return her stare with a straight face because what she