Page 29 of Half-Court Heat

There were no jokes between us now. No clever remarks. Just breathing and movement and heat.

I rolled her onto her back and hovered over her, bracing myself on one elbow as I ran my fingers down her sternum. I took my time, not because I wanted to tease her, but because I wanted to remember what it felt like to slow down.

I kissed her like I meant to ruin her, slow and deep and thorough, until she let out a soft, desperate sound that I felt all the way in my gut. Her hands slid into my hair, but I pinned them above her head with one of mine, dragging my mouth down her throat and over her collarbone.

She arched beneath me when I finally reached her chest, my free hand palming one perfect breast while my mouth closed over the other. I would have thought it a tragedy that her breasts spent so much time trapped in a sports bra if not for moments like this.

“Lex—” she gasped, already breathless.

I sucked lightly at first, circling her nipple with the flat of my tongue before drawing it fully into my mouth. She cursed under her breath, hips lifting, her fingers flexing where I heldher down. The skin beneath my palm tightened, her body so responsive, so fucking beautiful like this, laid bare and aching.

“You always do this to me,” she sighed.

I grazed her nipple with just the edge of my teeth, then soothed the sting with my tongue. “You love it.”

“I do,” she admitted, head falling back. “God, I do.”

I gave the same attention to the other side, rolling her nipple between my fingers while my mouth worshiped the pert bud I’d just left. She whimpered and squirmed, thighs parting without even meaning to.

“Look at you,” I murmured. “So fucking sensitive.”

“You’re not helping,” she groaned, breath hitching as I licked her again, slower now, teasing.

“I’m not trying to help.”

She bucked beneath me when I pinched her nipple gently, just enough pressure to make her whine. I tongued over the same spot until she writhed, hips pushing against my thigh.

I finally let go of her wrists and dragged both hands down her torso. My thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts, then lifted again to trace the stiff peaks with my knuckles.

“Do it again,” she panted.

I leaned down and sucked one nipple deep into my mouth, letting it sit heavy on my tongue while my fingers twisted the other. She moaned—loud and open this time—her hands flying to my shoulders like she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.

“Too much?” I murmured against her skin.

“Not even close,” she rasped.

I grinned and bit gently. “Good. Then come here.”

She blinked, breath caught. “Where?”

I rolled onto my back and tapped my mouth. “Let me taste you.”

Her eyes went wide. “You want me to?—”

“I want you right here,” I said, gaze steady, lips still parted. “Sit on my face, Eva.”

For a second she just stared, stunned and flushed, like I’d undone something deep in her. Then she moved—slow and deliberate, almost reverent. Her knees landed on either side of my head, and I looked up at her like she was the whole damn sky.

Her pussy was slick and swollen, glistening in the low light. I gripped her thighs and pulled her down to meet my mouth.

She moaned the moment my tongue parted her, her hips jerking like her body had been waiting for this since before dinner, since before the fight, since always.

I took my time with long, deliberate strokes of my tongue, savoring her, pressing flat and slow before curling the tip of my tongue just right. She ground down on me with a choked sound, her hands gripping the headboard for balance.

“Oh fuck, Lex.”

I hummed against her clit, and her whole body shuddered.