Page 42 of Playing Dirty (Leighton U #4)

Theo

I startle awake in the middle of the night, disoriented and not having any idea where I am for a solid thirty seconds.

It’s only when I realize I’m still at Madden’s that I relax again, and checking the time on my phone reveals it’s been barely an hour since we curled up on the couch to watch the movie.

Well, shit.

I must’ve fallen asleep, and a quick glance over at Madden reveals he did too.

I hadn’t intended on sleeping over tonight, but now, being tucked against his body, the idea of leaving holds absolutely no appeal.

Resisting the urge to burrow deeper into his chest is nearly impossible, but there’s a good chance one of my gazillion roommates will notice my car missing by morning .

That thought alone gives me the strength to plan a silent escape, starting by slowly lifting his arm from where it’s wrapped around me. The real issue comes when I realize I’m still pinned between him and the back of the couch, and I’ve barely sat up when he stirs beside me.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” he whispers, voice thick with sleep.

I curse internally, but looking down, I find his eyes are still closed. “Nothing, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

He lets out a little noise—something between a sigh and a groan—before murmuring, “We fell asleep?”

God, how can someone as sexy as him be so…adorable at the same time? It’s really not fair, and it’s killing what little resolve I’m clinging to.

“Yeah. Must’ve during the movie.”

He’s silent for a moment, and I almost think he’s fallen back asleep when he quietly asks, “Are you gonna leave?”

The question is a knife to the heart, and I hate knowing the answer is yes. Especially if it means it’ll disappoint him.

“I probably should.”

He makes the softest little groan and throws his arm back over my waist in protest. Like it would be enough to keep me in place—though it probably would be if he weren’t half asleep. Of course, all of my willpower crumbles like a house of cards when he utters two words.

“Just stay.”

My fingers skate over his arm, tracing the lines and patterns inked into his skin. Despite having come to know them rather intimately over the past weeks, I still don’t tire of touching them, mapping the intricate designs.

God. It’s kind of pathetic, honestly, how much pull he has over me in such a short amount of time. How much I crave being with him as much as possible.

“Can we at least go to your room if I stay?”

He hums and sits up, cracking his eyes half open. “Yeah, not a bad idea.”

Fuck, he’s adorable.

I rise from the couch, pulling him to stand with me, and together, we head down the hall. A quick detour is made at the bathroom, where he offers a spare toothbrush and we both brush our teeth before we wind up closed in his room.

The only light comes from the street lamp outside, beams streaking through the curtains just enough to illuminate his form while he strips down to his underwear.

His movements are a little clumsy from his sleepy state, and I smile to myself while watching him climb into bed with far less grace than a D1 athlete should have.

I quickly follow suit, tossing my clothes aside and sliding in beside him.

Madden’s arm is there instantly, wrapping around my waist and tugging me to him until my shoulder is nestled against his chest. I slip my bicep beneath his pillow so he can snuggle in closer, his entire torso now pressed into my side while his arm remains slung over my stomach.

Every atom and molecule of my being is lit on fire from the contact, and though it’s far from the first time we’ve shared a bed—even since hooking up the first time—I’m wound tight with equal parts contentment and guilt.

In the weeks since Vermont, I’ve resigned myself to this—to wanting him the way I do, no matter the countless reasons I shouldn’t.

By some miracle, I’m able to push them all to the recesses of my mind, allowing this uninhibited, forbidden desire to fill the space instead, but it doesn’t make them disappear entirely.

I’m still completely aware of just how messy things have become by giving in to this attraction, and I can’t help but think it’ll only get worse if we continue down this path.

It’s just not enough to make me wanna stop .

If anything, it makes me want him more. For as long as I possibly can have him, enjoying every stolen moment, kiss, and touch before they’re gone.

Oblivious to my introspection, a sleepy Madden buries his face into my hair, nuzzling against me like a cat does when it’s being pet. Then he takes a long, deep breath, his nose buried in the strands right behind my ear.

My lips twitch, and I can’t keep the amusement from my voice when I utter, “Did you just smell me?”

“Can you blame me? You always smell so good,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Like musk and trees or something.”

This time, I really do let out a soft chuckle before turning to kiss whatever part of his face is nearest mine. I think it’s his forehead, maybe a temple, but I can’t be sure in the darkness.

All he does is hum and nuzzle in some more, holding me tightly against him. Almost as if he thinks letting me go will give me the chance to sneak out and go home. But he doesn’t need to worry about that; nothing short of a nuclear explosion could get me out of his bed—or his arms—right now.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” he tells me in a whisper. “I know it might be silly, but…it means a lot.”

The gentleness and gratitude in his voice have a vise clamping around my lungs, making it hard to breathe. To the point where I can barely choke out a graveled response.

“I’m glad I did too.”

He presses another kiss to my hair while the inked hand slung over my waist slowly traces up my side, from my hip all the way to the bulk of my ribcage.

Then his lips move to the spot below my ear at the same time his palm slides over my chest, not stopping until the webbing between his thumb and index finger reaches the base of my throat.

My dick stirs behind my underwear when his thumb pushes my jaw to the side, giving his mouth better access to my neck to lay down another kiss. This one sends a bolt of lust straight to my balls, and I draw in a deep, steadying breath.

“I thought we were going to—”

He turns my head to face him, his lips finding mine in the darkness, and just like that, all thoughts of sleep are gone.

The only thing I can focus on is him. The gentle way his mouth molds to mine.

The smooth, hard planes of muscle and skin pressing into me.

The faint hint of toothpaste on his tongue when it sweeps past my lips, flicking and teasing to deepen the kiss.

He shifts, rolling half on top of me while sliding his hand to the side of my face. His thumb runs along the line of my jaw, and while the touch is feather-light, it still has a grounding effect. Keeping me locked in the moment where the two of us are the only things in existence.

A contented sigh slips from my lips, something like a mewl, and Madden swallows it down greedily before sliding a knee between my thighs. I’m achingly hard already when his hips drop to mine, and the feel of his erection pressed against my pelvis has me moaning into his mouth once more.

He does it again and again, slowly tormenting us both with delicious friction behind our underwear while his lips and tongue feverishly explore my mouth. It’s enough to drive me wild with need, reducing me to my baser self.

My hands skim over his chest before wrapping around the sides of his neck, keeping him locked in place while we devour each other some more.

But he breaks away and brings his forehead to rest on mine, breathing in each other’s air.

A few slivers of light from the street lamp slice through the curtain, illuminating the room just enough for me to see the tension in his jaw and the way his throat works to swallow.

“What’s wrong? What are you thinking?”

His head pulls away, and his gaze traces over my face briefly before he responds.

“I’m wondering how far you’re wanting to go tonight.”

I frown for a moment, because over the past weeks, we’ve gotten extremely familiar with each other. Rimming, blow jobs, prostate massages, and more. I mean, the only thing we haven’t—

Oh.

Oh.

My throat constricts as understanding dawns on me. Not because I don’t want to. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I also know, once we cross this line, there’s no turning back.

And the thought is as terrifying as it is intoxicating.

Rather than answer, I press my mouth back to his. Saying everything I’m thinking and feeling with this kiss.

I release his neck to run my fingertips along the taut lines on either side of his spine before reaching the waistband of his underwear.

But I don’t stop there, slipping my fingers beneath the elastic and harshly gripping each globe of his ass in either palm, urging his hips to move faster, to give us more.

He does, grinding harder until both our cocks start leaking through the fabric of our underwear. But it’s not enough. Nothing with him ever is, so I break away and whisper in a ragged pant against his lips, “All of you. I want all of you.”

His chest rises and falls quickly, brushing against mine with every breath he takes before he offers a slight nod.

“Do you want a condom?” he asks softly.

We both had clear screenings at the beginning of the year, and with neither of us seeing anyone besides each other since…

I shake my head, and the words come out rough when I whisper, “Not unless you do.”

There’s a little flare of heat in his gaze before he nods again, presses another soft kiss to my lips, and shifts off of me. I slide off my underwear, and he does the same before he rifles through the nightstand.