Page 95 of Offensive Plays
He pulls the computer chair out and pats it for me to sit on it. I walk over and sit. He pushes me toward one of the screens. His head leaning down just over my left shoulder, as he speaks.
“And the first match I got…” he opens the screen to his account and pulls up mine. “LeaveHerWild.”
I look at him and he looks at me. His eyes flickering from my lips back to my eyes. “It was fate, Libby.”
I push the chair back and stand up to face him. He straightens, slipping his hands into his pockets and staring back at me.
“I’m sorry, I pushed you away. It was never what I wanted.”
He shifts his weight to another foot. “Then why did you?”
I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know if I ever can. And that’s the part that kills me the most. I want to tell this man everything, but I can’t.
“I was young and impressionable.” I tell him. “I wish I would’ve done things differently.”
He slips one hand out of his pocket and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
“I’m sure we both wish we would’ve done things differently,” he admits.
He takes my chin in his hand and brings my lips up to his. “But I have you now. And that’s all that fucking matters to me, Libby. We can figure out the rest.”
I nod, my lips parting at the closeness of his.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asks.
I nod softly.
“Then say it,” he growls out.
That voice of his sends electric shockwaves down to my core. My dominant man is back. And it thrills me.
“Please, kiss me stranger.”
A slow and wicked grin spreads across his face. “That’s my girl.”
His fingers lace into my hair and he pulls my mouth to his, devouring my lips in a needy, heady kiss. When we finally pull away. He looks at me.
“Take your clothes off, Libby.”
I rip my top off. And he reaches behind me to undo my bikini top. It drops to the floor in front of my feet. And he pauses. Looking at me topless.
“What is it?” I breathe out.
“There were some…” he gulps. “Pictures of you. Some of the boys were caught looking at them.”
“Oh god,” I say shooting my hands up to my face. He grabs my hands and looks me in the eye. Zane and I handled it.
“I didn’t even want to do that stupid shoot,” I mutter.
“What happened?”
“Paris happened,” I say.
“Well, we threatened to kill them if they’re ever caught with those photos again,” he says, pulling me by a loop on the waist of my jean shorts. “But, if I’m being honest…”
He slips his phone open from his back pocket and opens it to an album. He thumbs through photos of my topless shoot. And even photos from the more recent lingerie shoot.”
I grab the phone. “How did you get these? These haven’t even been released.”