Page 13 of The Players We Hate (Rixton U #2)

Wren

His hand locked with mine, rough and certain, as Talon pulled me through the trees, away from the bonfires and noise of Devil’s Backbone.

Leaves cracked under my boots, my cape trailing me, a twisted shadow of a fairy tale. I wasn’t running from the wolf—I was following him.

His truck waited at the edge of the lot, headlights flashing when he hit the remote. My chest tightened.

He opened the passenger door, steadying me with a hand at my waist as I climbed in. The seat carried his scent—leather, cologne, heat that wrapped around me the second I sat down.

A moment later, he rounded the hood and slid behind the wheel. The door shut, sealing us in silence heavier than the party we’d left behind.

But he didn’t start the engine.

He turned toward me, hand braced on his thigh, jaw tight, swallowing down whatever he didn’t want to say .

I started to say something, but he caught my hand first, giving it a gentle tug that pulled me across the console.

Every inch felt intentional, dragging out the space between us. My heart slammed against my ribs as I moved, breath catching when I slid sideways into his space.

I didn’t end up fully in his lap. Instead, my legs stretched across his, my palm pressed to his chest to steady myself. His arm came around my waist, holding me there, solid and unshakable.

The leather creaked under us, the only sound left now that the party was far behind. Just me and him, and the heat of everything we hadn’t said yet.

I looked at him, truly looked at him, and everything inside me softened.

Talon Pierce wasn’t the boy people warned me about. He wasn’t the enforcer on the ice, the one with blood on his knuckles and fire in his eyes. Not right now.

Right now, he was a guy carrying too much, the kind of weight that never really let you breathe easy. But sitting here with me, it eased, even if only a little.

And me? I was unraveling in the best way.

He tugged off one boot, then the other, setting them on the floorboard. His hand didn’t leave me. His hand skimmed over my thigh, unhurried, as if he needed to remember every curve.

“You keep doing this,” he said, his voice low and thick. “Showing up when I’ve almost convinced myself to stay away. Now tonight, with you sitting here in red, you look like temptation itself. And I’m barely holding on to the control I have left.”

A shiver ran through me, but I didn’t back away .

“I didn’t come here to mess with your head,” I whispered.

“No,” he said, his thumb tracing a slow path over my skin. “You came here dressed like sin, and now you’re sitting in my lap like you’re not dangerous.”

I smiled barely. “Maybe I’m both.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his forehead leaning into mine.

“This isn’t just about tonight,” he said, voice rough but certain. “I don’t want you thinking I’m here for some quick hookup because I’m not. I’ve told myself where the line is with you—what I’ll let happen, what I won’t. You matter too much for me to screw this up.”

I swallowed, heat unfurling in my chest. “You’re not taking anything, Talon. Not if I want to give it.”

He stilled.

The tension in him didn’t ease. It shifted—less about control, more about raw need, maybe even desperation he was fighting to hold back.

“You’re making this hard, Wren.”

I reached up, brushing my fingers along the edge of his jaw. “Maybe you don’t always have to do what’s easy.”

His mouth hovered near mine, his breath uneven, but he didn’t close the gap. I couldn’t either.

We just sat there, the silence heavy with everything we weren’t saying. No party. No masks. No walls.

Just him. Just me. And the truth sitting between us, impossible to ignore.

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along the outer edge of my thigh. “You walk in dressed like this and expect me to stand there?”

My skin burned beneath his touch .

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me. No fucking clue.”

I started to say something, but his hand moved first, slipping higher under my dress. My breath hitched when his thumb brushed the inside of my knee and kept going. I tensed, heat shooting through me when he stopped just short of where I wanted him most.

Then his voice cut through the silence, rough and low.

“I meant what I said. I’m not fucking you tonight.”

The words were harsh, but the smirk that curled at the corner of his mouth when I whimpered said everything.

I hated how much I wanted him right then. Hated how badly I wanted to beg him to forget every noble thing he thought he was doing by not giving in.

“Still,” he murmured, “that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make you fall apart for me again.”

His fingers brushed the edge of my panties, and my whole body jolted.

“You’re soaked,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. His hand trembled slightly. “Jesus, Wren.”

In the soft glow from the dashboard, I could see his pupils blown wide as he tilted his head up at me, his voice catching somewhere between awe and possession. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

“Put your arms around me.”

I did what he told me to without even thinking, threading my fingers into his hair. His other hand slid to the small of my back, tugging me closer until I was pressed against him. Hard and unrelenting under the zipper of his jeans, the feel of him dragged a sharp gasp out of me .

My thighs pressed together on instinct, but his hand moved lower, nudging them apart again, slow and sure. I couldn’t catch my breath before his fingers slipped beneath the lace edge of my panties. The first touch made my whole body jolt, heat rushing through me so fast it left me dizzy.

I clung to him, breath stuttering, every nerve lit up as his fingers worked over me—slow at first, then with more intent, until I couldn’t hold myself back. The pressure coiled tight, snapping before I could stop it.

A broken sound tore from my throat as I came apart against him.

“There it is,” he whispered, eyes dark and hooded. “That little gasp. That’s mine.”

His fingers were slow and skillful, dragging through the slick heat between my thighs. He didn’t rush. Didn’t press too hard. He just explored—mapping every reaction I gave him, every twitch, every breathless moan that escaped me.

I whimpered again, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

“I need to know you’re mine before we take it further,” he said, voice rough. “I want you like this—shaking, begging, coming apart for me.” His hand tightened on my hip. “I want to taste you, bury my face between your thighs, and hear you lose control in my arms.”

“Talon,” I breathed, my grip tightening on his jacket until the leather creaked.

His eyes locked on mine, burning. “I want you under me, Wren. Wet, aching, knowing no one else will ever get this. Just me.”

His thumb circled my clit, making me buck slightly in his lap .

“You hear me, baby? I want every sound. Every breathy little moan. I want you to give this to me. Not because I took it, but because you wanted it too.”

I could barely think, let alone speak. Yet somehow, through the haze, I found my voice.

“I do,” I whispered, trembling. “I want you.”

He groaned, deep and guttural.

“You have no idea what that does to me.”

His hand slid back up, caressing the inside of my thigh again. The teasing edge returned, but the heat in his eyes never faded.

“I swore I’d keep control,” he said quietly, his lips tracing the edge of my ear. “I told myself I wouldn’t cross the line until I knew it was yours to draw.”

I pulled away, meeting his gaze, pulse roaring in my ears.

“You’re not crossing anything,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “If I give myself to you, it’s because I choose to.”

Something in his expression cracked. The last bit of his restraint was slipping. His hands tightened around my waist before his lips met mine in a kiss that was deep and raw, full of need and ache. It said everything he couldn’t put into words—that he wanted me, that he needed me, that he cared.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath still uneven.

“Not tonight.”

My body screamed in protest, but I still nodded. This wasn’t about rushing. It wasn’t about taking. It was about us.

The truck was quiet. The windows fogged from our breath. The bonfires still burned outside, thumping music faint in the distance. In here, it was just us caught between ragged breaths and the heat building while we waited.

Talon brushed his thumb across my jaw, his touch lingering as if he wanted to hold on to the moment.

“You’re gonna undo me, Red.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips. “Then we’ll wreck each other.”

The truth landed hard as I was pressed against him. I was his. Even if he never said it, I already knew. And I didn’t want anything else.

The air between us was thick, heavy. Talon’s eyes never left mine, his fingers moving with a certainty that told me he knew what I needed before I did.

I was shaking, part of it from trying to hold on, part of it from the ache tightening low in my stomach. My thighs quivered with every drag of his thumb, and my breath caught when I couldn’t stay still anymore. I shifted without thinking, grinding against the ridge of his jeans.

That was when I felt him—hard, straining against the denim.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I stilled, afraid I’d pushed too far. Then his groan broke the silence, deep and raw, his fingers clutching harder at my waist.

“Fuck, Wren…” His voice was rough. “You’re gonna kill me.”

My pulse stumbled. Before I could second-guess it, I swung across his lap to straddle one of his legs. Talon sucked in a breath and shoved the console up behind me with a loud click, making room.

My dress rode higher as I moved, the cold leather pressing into my knees, but I barely noticed. His hands settled on my hips, steadying me, caught between bracing himself and not wanting to let me go.

I glanced down at the hard line straining against his jeans. He was holding still, jaw tight, trying not to give in. My hand hovered, nerves twisting, before I finally touched him.

Just a brush of my fingers—but it was enough.

Talon’s head hit the headrest, his jaw tight, a curse torn from his throat. “Fuck, Wren…” His chest rose and fell hard.

I froze, looking up at him. “Is that too much?”

His eyes burned into mine, voice low and ragged. “Too much? No. Not even close. But if you keep that up, I’m not gonna last. I’ll lose it right here with you.”

A nervous laugh escaped me, but even that turned breathy. Boldness flickered in my chest, fed by the way his body reacted to mine. I traced his length again, feeling the heat and hardness through his jeans. My cheeks flushed, but I didn’t stop.

I shifted on his lap, my heart racing as I looked up at him. “I’ve never… done this before,” I admitted, my voice low, almost swallowed by the sound of Talon’s heavy pants. “God, I want to… I want to touch you.”

Talon’s groan tore out of him, rough and guttural, his hands gripping my hips as if holding himself together. “Wren…” His voice was wrecked, warning and desperate all at once. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t have to give me this.”

My chest heaved, heat crawling up my neck. “I don’t have to do anything,” I shot back, breathless. “But I know what I want, and I want you.”

My fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans, nerves and desire tangling.

He tugged the zipper down himself, his shirt riding up just enough to show the tense lines of his stomach as I slipped my hand inside.

The heat of him hit me first, thick and hard in my palm, and my breath caught when he twitched from my touch.

“Jesus,” he rasped, his head dropping back against the seat. “You’re so fucking good at this, baby. Keep it up, and I won’t last a damn minute.”

His praise only made me bolder.

I wrapped my hand around him, slowly, unsure at first, but the sharp inhale he let out told me I was doing something right. I moved my hand gently, then firmer, dragging my palm along the length of him the way I’d only ever imagined. He twitched again in my grip, and his hips jerked up against me.

“You feel so good,” I whispered, mesmerized by his weight and the way his eyes fluttered shut every time I squeezed tighter or twisted just right.

His hands slid under my dress, gripping my thighs. “Fuck, Wren… just like that, baby.”

I kept going, watching his jaw tighten, his chest rising and falling in jagged, shallow breaths. His hand slipped from my leg to my wrist, wrapping around it as he guided me into a quicker rhythm.

“That’s it,” he ground out, his voice rough. “Right there. Feels so fucking good, baby.”

I followed his lead, my pulse racing at the way his body strained under my touch. He was fighting it, holding on by a thread, but I wanted him to lose control.

I leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Come for me, Talon.”

That did it .

His hips jerked once, twice, and then a rough groan tore out of him as he came in my hand. His whole body shook under me. He muttered a curse, dragging a hand over his face while the last of it worked through him, still twitching against my palm.

I kissed the corner of his jaw, stroking him gently until he reached down and stilled my hand.

“Fuck,” he groaned, trying to catch his breath. “You’ll be the fucking death of me, Red.”

I laughed softly, my cheeks warm. “You started it, Wolf.”

He kissed me slower this time, taking his time with it.

I curled into his side, pressing my face to his chest. The woods were quiet except for faint music drifting from the party and the steady thump of his heart under my cheek.

I knew the moment couldn’t last, but right then, I didn’t care.