Page 67 of Rule 1: Never Accidentally Marry Your Teammate

“Too much talking, Fitzpatrick.” He bends down, grabs my thighs, and starts carrying me.

“Wait! You can’t do that!”

“I can’t help that you’re a slowpoke, Fitzpatrick.”

The hallway furniture moves at a fast pace, but of course, I’m the person moving. And Finn is carrying me.

“I’m bigger than you!” I exclaim.

He snorts. “Taller. Are you callingme unfit?”

“I would never—”

“Good.” He drops me in front of his bedroom door, putting me down carefully, so my legs slide against his, my chest slides against his sweat-slicked one, and oh, yeah, then we’re kissing again. I’ve seen him bare chested before, but that’s nothing like feeling his warm muscular frame press against me.

Kissing Finn is my absolute new favorite thing in the world. There’s nothing small about his mouth, nothing dainty, nothing careful about his kissing style.

His hard body sends desire shooting through me.

Then he’s backing me toward his bed, the same place I carefully, painstakingly, though perhaps not effectively, cleaned.

He flings me backward, and I fall onto unmade covers, but there’s no way I’m going to fix them now. The privacy shades are still down, and dim golden light floods the room. Finn crawls between my legs, his pupils dilated, lowers himself over me, and we’re kissing again.

Oh, yeah. Finn was totally right. This is even better than kissing in the hallway. I sink into the mattress, feeling all of him press against me. Our skin slides together, and everything is hot and wonderful and smells like him.

Finn grabs hold of my cock and positions his right next to it. My cock hardens.

And hardens.

And hardens.

In fact, I’m sure it’s never felt more like a rock in my twenty-two years.

There’s nothing careful about the exploration of my body, and I’m suddenly reminded of all the awkward sex I used to have. All the smoothing of hair, and the ready flow of compliments that ushered out of me more out of a sense of politeness than passion, and the ordered attention to various parts of the body before I proceeded with the main event.

I thought it was fine. A bit silly that everyone made such a big deal about it, especially since some parts of it made me recoil, but for the most part it was perfectly pleasant.

This isn’t pleasant.

It’s awe-inducing.

And all we’ve done is kiss and rut against each other.

Our cocks slide together, pre-cum spilling and merging. The scent of sex fills the air, and I feel drunk.

He thrusts, I thrust.

We’re animals.

He moves his hand through my hair, unconcerned it’s not long and luscious and Madison-like, and when he looks at me, I only see wonder.

Then I explode.

He follows me right after, and he collapses onto me, pulling me beside him.

My heart zooms. My nerves zing.

Then Finn starts to laugh, and I draw back. Is he regretting this? Does he think it’s...ridiculous?