Page 25

“Tell me again what you do to prevent injuries,” Bear murmurs, watching as my hand travels lazily up her thigh.

I try to focus on her words, but with her bare legs across my lap, it’s hard not to get distracted by her smooth, golden skin.

She’s been firing off questions for the last forty minutes. Unfortunately, my brain dropped to my dick about ten minutes ago.

She slaps my hand away when I start toying with the hem of her denim skirt.

“Focus, Levi.” The smile on her face contradicts the sternness in her voice. “I’m meeting with my professor next week and need to show her my progress.”

“How can I concentrate on anything when your legs are right here ?” I’m genuinely curious as to what the answer is because right now, my mind is blank.

No, scratch that, it’s not blank. It’s utterly consumed with the girl in front of me. And I’m having a hard time focusing on anything else.

My mind drifts to yesterday in the locker room, and my dick twitches at the memory of having her come on my tongue. It’s only been twenty-four hours, and I’m already craving more of her.

God, the way it felt when her lips claimed mine. If I never had to come up for air, I would have spent hours kissing her.

“Should I cover them up?” Bear grabs the checkered blanket draped over the back of the couch, but I pull it out of her reach.

“No. Not happening,” I grumble.

She throws her head back with a laugh.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she says. “They’re just legs.”

“No, they’re not. They’re your legs.”

“What difference does it make?”

“A lot, actually.”

“Either way, hands off the legs and mind on the task at hand, please.”

“Fine, I’ll behave,” I promise, resting my hands on her shin. “What was the question again?”

“What do you do to prevent injuries?”

“Um.” I exhale a deep breath, forcing myself not to stroke her soft skin and lose my train of thought. “We have individualized warm-up routines to iron out any kinks.”

“Like your shoulder?” Bears murmurs, her golden hair creating a curtain around her face as she writes down my answer.

She remembers. I told her about my pinched nerve weeks ago, and she remembered. My chest squeezes at her recollection. The feeling is oddly comforting.

“Yeah, like my shoulder,” I reply. “And uh, lots of dry land training to strengthen our muscles. One day a week, we focus solely on improving our technique to prevent further strain. Then, there are the massages we have access to.” I add, filling her in on everything I can think of off the top of my head.

Under my hands, Bear stiffens slightly and glances up, pen hovering in the air, blue eyes flashing with something sharp.

“I didn’t know the team had access to a masseuse.” Her tone is laced with a fiery attitude.

A sick part of me loves Bear’s jealous streak. That same part of me relishes the thought of her not wanting someone else’s hands on me. It’s like a neon sign flashing: She cares . And somehow, that makes me feel like the lucky one.

“Oh yeah, great person. Really knows how to work magic with their hands.” I sigh like the memory is fresh in my mind.

Bear’s nose crinkles in that adorable way it does when she’s holding back from saying exactly what she wants.

Truth is, I haven’t had a massage in months. I avoid Declan’s calloused man-hands at all costs because that shit hurts more than it relaxes me.

“But I believe the correct term is a ‘masseur.’ And although I’ve never seen it, I’m pretty sure Declan has a dick underneath his uniform.” My lips twitch as I watch Bear’s reaction.

Her cheeks tinge a light pink, and I snigger.

“Oh my God, you’re an asshole.” She groans, throwing the pen at me.

I don’t even flinch as it bounces off my chest and onto the floor.

“Kinda sounded like you were jealous, Teddy Bear.”

“Was not,” she mumbles, avoiding my eyes as she busies herself with closing her notebook and setting it on the ottoman.

But when she turns back to me, a melancholy expression has taken over her beautiful features.

In one swift movement, I pull her toward me. Her skirt bunches around her waist as she straddles me.

“Hey.” I gently cup her face between my hands. “I was kidding. I mean, I can get massages, but I swear Declan is a guy.”

“I know it’s just…” Bear's eyes drift to a vacant spot over my shoulder as if lost in a memory I'm not privy to. She blinks slowly, and when her gaze returns to mine, her eyes seem brighter. The tightness in my chest loosens.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she mummers before lowering her lips to mine.

I should ask her to explain. Tell me what place she went to just now, but I’m too distracted by her tongue tangling with mine, her sweet fruity scent, and how her hips are grinding into my already hard dick.

My hands run up the back of her thighs, cupping her ass cheeks. I squeeze them, swallowing up her moan.

When my fingers brush the front of her underwear, Bear bucks her hips up in a silent invitation. I slip a finger beneath the lacy fabric, and the smooth skin of her pussy greets me.

“So, wet and needy for me.” I grit out.

A soft cry laced with need spills from her lips—music to my ears.

Fisting her hair with one hand, I pull her lips back onto mine as I slowly inch two fingers inside her. I’ve barely gotten to the knuckle when the doorbell rings.

My first instinct is to ignore it, but the ringing starts again the second it stops.

Bear freezes against me. “Is that him?”

“Maybe,” I mumble against her lips.

As if he somehow knows we’re talking about him, Mack shouts, “Is anyone opening the door for me, or should I come back in two minutes?”

Laughter erupts from the other side of the door, and I mutter a curse against Bear’s lips.

Mack crashed at my place last night, and before I came over, I told him to meet us in an hour. Looks like he finally decided to be on time.

Reluctantly, we pull apart, and my fingers slip out of Bear’s wet heat.

Her hair is a wild mess, her lips swollen and bright red, and her eyes still hold a haze of lust. She’s never looked more fucking beautiful.

If I could, I’d freeze this moment. Take a snapshot of her, blow it up, and hang it in my room.

She slips off my lap and straightens her skirt. “Give me a few minutes to freshen up in the bathroom. I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”

“Why? You look good like that.”

“I look like I’ve been dry-humping your lap.” She laughs, smoothing down her hair.

“Exactly.” I shrug.

The doorbell rings again, and I roll my eyes. “I’m coming, hold on.”

“Do you mean literally, or like, you’re opening the door for me?” Mack calls out, and Bear giggles.

“You better go out there, or we might get a noise complaint.”

Knowing she’s right, I stand, but before heading to the door, I pull her close and kiss her forehead.

“What was that for?” She asks when I pull back.

“No reason, just felt like it,” I say honestly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her responding smile tugs at something deep in my chest. Our gazes linger, only to be broken by the doorbell. Again.

I throw my head back with a groan, seriously questioning my choice of best friend. As I go to deal with Mack, Bear slips into the bathroom.

“Has anyone told you lately you’re a dick?” I say, swinging the door open.

“No,” Mack smirks. “But people tell me I have a big dick.”

I flash him a vulgar gesture. “Let’s go.”

“Where’s Bear?” He asks, eagerly peering over my shoulder, then frowning when he doesn’t see her.

“Using the restroom. She’s meeting us downstairs.” I say, walking toward the elevator with him on my heels.

“So,” Mack says the word oozing smugness as he drapes an arm around my shoulders. “Are you ever going to admit I was right? That my solution did, in fact, work?”

Fuck my life.

I knew I’d regret asking him about that.