Page 29 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Theo

My heart thunders in my chest when I arrive home from practice Friday evening, and as I’m making a beeline for the staircase leading to my bedroom, I’m perfectly aware of how stupid it was to invite Madden over tonight.

Screwing around with him may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but to do it here ? Where any of the guys could find out?

Jesus, it’s certifiable.

And with Holden and Phoenix not going to Camden’s game tonight, three out of my four roommates are currently home. So the odds aren’t exactly in my favor for getting him in and out of the house unnoticed.

Yet, as I climb the stairs and close myself inside the safety of my bedroom, all I feel is anticipation. Giddiness, even. And, honestly, that is more than enough for me to consider an evaluation of my sanity .

After triple-checking the lock on my door, I quickly move over to the window and flip open the latch.

I had to send the most embarrassing text of my life after Phoenix told me they weren’t going to the game, asking Madden to climb through my bedroom window instead. I don’t think I’ll ever live that one down after he sent back a voice memo of him laughing for about thirty seconds straight.

But it was the better option than straight up cancelling in my book.

And his too, apparently, because there’s a soft tap on my window a few minutes later, alerting me of his arrival.

Madden’s gaze locks with mine through the glass, and I’m instantly at the sill, sliding the pane open for him.

It’s not the easiest feat for him to fit his six-two frame through the tiny opening—especially to do so quietly—but he somehow manages before dragging a drawstring backpack through the opening after him.

He stumbles for a second, and I grab him instinctively, only for my hand to land on a sticky patch on his sleeve.

“Jesus, you’re covered in…” I trail off, not sure what the hell is all over his clothes. Sap, maybe? Definitely quite a bit of dirt and bark chips. There’s some in his hair too, and though I do my best to keep my composure, a choked laugh slips out.

He shoots me an unamused look. “Well, if you didn’t want to role play being in high school, it wouldn’t be an issue.”

The comment piques my interest, and a slow grin creeps over my lips. “Oh, really? And I assume sneaking into bedrooms was a common occurrence for you in those days?”

From looks alone—heavily inked skin and sharp edges—Madden reeks of the rebellious, up-to-no-good kind of guy all the fathers would try keeping their daughters away from.

Or sons, in his case. But even with the relatively minimal amount of time I’ve spent with him, it’s obvious he isn’t the type to bend the rules, let alone break them.

Oblivious to my internal musings, Madden drops his bag to the ground and rolls his eyes. “Not the point at all, but sure, let’s deflect why you didn’t let me walk through the front door like a normal person.”

Frowning, I state the obvious. “Because none of the guys can see you.”

“I thought they were gone for the game.”

I shake my head. “Just the one.”

His lips form a tight line while his gaze maps my face. “And what part of this are you trying to keep under wraps, exactly? That you’re seeing a guy and not ready to come out, or that the guy you’re seeing happens to be your stepbrother?”

The question takes me off guard. Neither of those things have entered the equation for me, but honestly, they feel a lot more acceptable than the truth: that I’m shamefully messing around with the Blackmore captain.

“I’m not exactly looking to… out myself when I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of this, no. But you being my stepbrother isn’t really…” I trail off, looking for the right words.

Our parents being married—the technicality of our relation—doesn’t even factor in for me. Maybe it’d be different if we’d grown up in the same house and were raised as siblings, but as it stands, I don’t give two shits.

I shrug before going with, “I don’t know, it’s not some kinda weird forbidden or taboo thing to me. We’re both adults who can make their own choices.”

Granted, I don’t think Dad and Carla would see it that way, but…

He smirks as he steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist.

“So what I’m gathering is…you just enjoy sneaking around. Maybe have a bit of a thrill kink? Get off on the possibility of being caught? ”

“There is that distinct possibility,” I reply truthfully. “But there’s also your well-being to consider. You’re deep in enemy territory, you know.”

He pulls back and frowns, his brows knitting together. “This is about some stupid rivalry?”

Yeah, maybe I should’ve kept that tidbit to myself.

“It was a joke.”

“Liar,” he says with a laugh, not missing a beat. “But I’m glad to know you like me enough to not throw me to the Timberwolves.”

I snort and shake my head. “Barely.”

There’s a dangerous gleam in his eye when he whispers, “Maybe I’ll have to find a way to convince you.”

Now that I like the sound of. A whole fucking lot, actually.

Especially when his mouth descends on mine in a scorching kiss that has me curling my toes on the laminate flooring.

His hands are everywhere, tugging at my clothes while he starts to undress me.

I do the same, flicking open his belt and shoving his jeans to the floor with a single, swift move.

The only time our lips part is to rip our shirts from each other, but they come crashing back together seconds later.

I snake my hands up to the back of his neck, dragging him in for more now that we’ve stripped down to nothing but our underwear. His hands take full advantage too, skimming and skirting over my bare skin before wrapping around my waist and hauling me flush against him.

I moan when I feel the ridge of his erection pressing against my lower stomach, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past my lips, deepening the kiss. Pillaging my mouth and stealing the breath straight from my lungs.

My fingers sift through the dark strands of his hair, desperately trying to hold on through his onslaught, only to find another patch of sap, and I break away.

“Maybe we should shower first?” I ask, panting slightly. “You’re still kinda sticky.”

When I meet his gaze, I find him gaping at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You made me climb through the window so I wouldn’t be seen by any of your roommates, but now you’re gonna let me walk through the house so we can screw around in the shower?”

I release a breathy chuckle. “Relax, it’s right across the hall.”

It’s not the best option, but it’s not like I’m taking him down to the kitchen to grab a snack or something. Besides, Cam is the only one I’m really worried about running into up here, but he’s not home, and Logan hardly ever leaves his room.

“Mhmm,” he muses with a soft hum. “Well, then lead the way, I guess.”

Clad in only our underwear, we slip across the hall as quietly as we can manage and then quickly lock ourselves behind the safety of the bathroom door. I barely have the chance to flip the water on before Madden’s mouth finds mine again.

He’s all teeth and tongue, licking and nipping at my lip in a way that sets my blood to a boil.

Creates a living, breathing need for him beyond my control.

It’s been like this since I got my first taste of him—it’s a majority of the reason I ended up on his doorstep like a fucking fool not even a week ago—and honestly, I doubt it’ll go away anytime soon.

And now that I have him here? I’m not sure I want it to.

Somehow, in the mess of groping and kissing each other mercilessly, we end up naked before stumbling into the shower. Our mouths are still fused at the molecular level as the spray drenches us, falling over our heads and cascading around our joined lips.

My hands are everywhere, mapping his body, clawing at his skin while he backs me into the tiled wall of the shower, crowding me until the only thing I can feel is him.

His skin heating mine, his lips devouring me, his cock grinding into my hip.

It’s all-consuming.

“You’ve got me naked in your shower,” he mutters against my lips. “Now what are you planning to do with me?”

God, where to start?

“I think I…”

I trail off when his palm rubs over my length, my train of thought being completely derailed by the friction. All my brain cells rerouted to one thing—coming.

The smallest moan leaves me when he takes my cock in his fist and starts rolling his thumb over the bundle of nerves beneath the crown.

His lips curve with a hint of a smile; a complete juxtaposition from the way he’s staring at me like I’m his next meal.

“Fuck,” he growls, the singular word coming out far more seductive than it should. Or maybe it’s the words that fall from his lips next that do the trick. “I love watching you like this. Seeing how turned on you get when I’m barely touching you.”

I melt into goo any time he touches me, and I’d probably be embarrassed by it if I wasn’t so desperate to touch him. Taste him. Learn every inch of his body to the point where it may as well be my own.

And I know exactly what part of him I want first.

My attention lands on his cock, focusing on the foreskin starting to retract over the head now that he’s hard.

I reach for him without hesitation, wrapping my palm around his length and jacking it slowly.

He glides through my palm so easily, the loose skin now taut around his shaft, sliding up and down with every stroke I make.

It’s mesmerizing to watch, not to mention ridiculously hot.

My thumb runs along the underside of his cock, right where his foreskin covers the head, before putting pressure there like he did to me. It draws a sexy little moan from him, and when I glance up, I find his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“What does it feel like?” I whisper, more to myself than anything.

“Do you wanna find out?”

Another zap of lust hits me in the abdomen.“What do you mean?”