Rush (14 page)

My mom smiles and spreads her arms as we all sit down. “Let’s say grace, shall we?”

Oh, Lord. Here we go.
Anxiety swirls in my stomach, and my palms feel sweaty as Preston’s hand covers mine. Chloe casts me an anxious look, clamping her fingers into my skin on the other side, and I say my own silent prayer
Please, dear God, let her be brief…and kind.
Last time we were at this table, my mom and Devi got into it and Ben stormed out, calling us all bitches, and from the tense expression on Devi’s face, I’m guessing she remembers every word. Ben’s fingers curl open on top of the table, and he gives her a reassuring look. She drops her hand in his and lowers her head.

Ben begins the blessing, expressing thankfulness for health, family and friends, and for the Winslows’ first home cooked Thanksgiving…
in a long time
. He skips a beat—it’s likely undetectable to our guests, but the rest of us know, those words are code for “since dad left us.” I let out a low breath waiting for the sound of Ben’s voice to resume. I peek up and see the strain on my brother’s brow and my heart thumps.

Another moment passes and my mother takes over, faltering on the first sentence. “I am thankful for our guests, Devi, Preston, and Ar-man-do.” She sniffs. “And for each of my children. I know I don’t tell you enough how proud I am…”

Wow. That early morning massage must have increased the blood flow to her brain. She’s actually being kind.

“Ben, you have a brilliant career in New York, and you’ve found yourself a beautiful, smart girlfriend. Cate, every time I see you on stage, I marvel at your talent. Chloe, your artwork takes my breath away, and Priscilla, your abilities on the soccer field amaze me—we are all coming to North Carolina to watch you win the NCAA tournament.”

The skin at the back of my neck tingles and the sensation shifts to the back of my arms. Preston is staring at me but I can’t look at him right now. I should have told him that I haven’t told my family about my suspension. His thumb moves slowly over the top of my hand. I blink hard and try to focus on my mom’s voice.

“It’s been too long since we’ve celebrated a holiday at this house. Despite the fact that I fell apart after your dad left, none of you did.” I raise my head in unison with my siblings. She never talks about my dad. She dabs her napkin to her nose and sniffs. My stomach pinches, as it always does when we openly acknowledge the sins of our father. Cate’s lids are squeezed shut, as if she’s trying to block the pain, and Chloe’s mouth is turned down. My mom’s skin looks like paste and her perfectly lined mauve lips tighten over each word.

“Thank you for bringing us all back home for the holidays, Priscilla.” A tear plops from each of my eyes. Cate sniffs, and Chloe and Devi are crying, too.

Ben rests a heavy elbow on the table and covers his mouth with a hand, looking at all of us with an exasperated expression. He turns between Preston and Armando and presses his fingertips against his chest. “Are you feeling me here, brothers? This is what I have to deal with. You guys gotta stick around. I need some help.” He smacks the table and Chloe jumps beside me. “This is Thanksgiving, women! Quit your blubbering and raise your damn glasses. To the Winslow’s.”

Chapter Sixteen

Preston

I’m lying in bed listening to the sounds of the Winslows mansion settling around me. All in all, the day was a disastrous success. Something seemed to fail every five minutes, and yet the clan kept rolling and laughing. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have a big family to share life’s ups and downs—now I know. It felt amazing—with the exception of one thing—the tortured look on Priscilla’s face when her mom started praising her soccer accomplishments.

I watched the emotions twist over her face as she tried to reconcile her mom’s words with her current situation—and there I was, sitting next to her, the guy that backed up and knocked the soccer princess off the championship platform. The guy that’s supposed to be pretending to like her, that really
does
like her, but has nothing to offer her.

Soft footsteps pad on the other side of my door, drawing my attention. The inch of light streaming under the crack is interrupted by the shadow of two small feet. I hope to hell it’s Priscilla. A thin rap cuts the silence, the hinges whine, and she steps in.

I rise onto my elbows and watch her arms move, closing the door quietly. She’s wearing a light tank top and boxers. The moonlight illuminates the graceful outline of her body—I can see the small curve of her perfect tits, and her tight dark nipples…

“Preston…” The sound of her saying my name jumpstarts every gear in my body. “Are you awake?” she whispers.

“No,” I say, rolling onto my side and propping my head with a hand. “I’m sleeping, and my dream just started to get good.” She crosses her arms strategically over her chest, adding a shielding layer to the thin tank, and stares at her feet, obviously upset. I flip the covers off my legs and move to her.

“I just wanted to tell you, I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” She pulls back an inch, looking surprised by my sudden presence then smiling softly. I thread my hands through her hair and lean close, watching the shadows dance over her skin.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Peep.”

“I should have warned you that I haven’t told my family about my soccer status. I was holding my breath to see if any of them might have seen the last game on TV. When I realized they hadn’t, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell them.” She exhales in a shiver, and I slide my hands to her sides.

“It’s just hard to disappoint them.”

“It will be easier once we’re past the hearing.” Her eyes sink behind a thin sheen of tears, glimmering like gemstones under water. My hearts flips and my grip tightens on her waist. “What is it?”

“I’m scared.”

My chest squeezes. “Are you scared because you don’t believe me?”

“No. I’m scared because I
do
believe you.”

I angle my head, searching for the meaning of her words as she continues, “I didn’t believe you at first, but now I do. And I’m scared of what will happen to
you
—to
your
eligibility. If you win your game on Saturday, you’re going to the Big Ten Championship and probably a bowl game. I’ve tried to push it out of my mind and focus on myself, but I feel like that’s not fair to you. I know you didn’t involve me in that bar fight on purpose. I jumped in willingly. I drank those beers, willingly.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I just need you to trust me. Even if you told me not to, I’d still show up at that hearing,” I say, opening my sweaty fingers and squeezing her waist gently. A faint smile edges into the corners of her mouth and her bottom lip slides. She’s so close I can smell her skin—clean and faintly floral, and I can feel the heat radiating between us. I inch my face closer and speak low. “I seriously don’t know how you expect me to focus on anything other than you standing in my bedroom dressed like that.”

Her smile widens, and I can feel our thoughts synchronizing. God. I shouldn’t have gone there. She slides closer, flexing her fingers against my pecs, walking right through the door my mouth just opened. I swallow hard.

“Priscilla, there are things you should know about me before we…” Her eyes drop to my lips, and she looks so damn innocent and sexy as hell. “Before we…” I can’t even concentrate while she’s looking at me like that.

“Before we fuck?” She fills in my blank with a scorching whisper, and the meaning shoots straight to my cock. I clench the muscles in my legs, and return a warning look. She doesn’t back up or even blink. The distress on her face has succumbed to the sexual energy running between us. I could have her right now…but it’s a mistake to go too far before she knows everything there is to know about me. Her words, though—
Before we fuck?
—echo in my head.

I raise my thumb to her bottom lip. “You should shut your sweet mouth before I lose my…” She clasps the pad between her teeth, nipping, and when she sucks it into her mouth, I’m done. I’m good, but I’m not that good. I drop my head, replacing the thumb with a starved kiss, plunging into her with deep strokes.

I bend and hook my forearm under her knees, swinging her up to my chest. Her breath sucks in through a startled gasp. Her arm circles my neck and she lets out a small laugh. I have to have her—not all of her, not yet, but at least some small part of her.

I brush my nose down her cheek and whisper over her ear as I’m moving us to the bed. “I’m going to make you admit the real reason you’re in here. I’ll stop when you admit it.” I tell her this knowing I’m setting up a threshold for both of us—a point at which we’ll stop. My knee sinks into the mattress. I lower my arms and set her down. I’m watching for any resistance, but all I see is a sultry grin.

“If you want me to stop, just say it.” I kiss her, whispering the directive against her mouth, and there’s a small voice in the back of my mind that’s begging her to tell me to stop. My knee slides between her warm legs, and I lower my body, cautioning myself to go slow, reminding myself that despite her willingness, she’s still a virgin.

She traces my lower lip with her tongue, making a low, seductive sound that heats my blood. I release more of my weight, shifting my hips and deepening our kiss.

Her lashes flutter above the tiny lines at the corner of her eyelids, and she blinks them open, focusing through a spellbound expression. I tilt my hips, pressing my hard cock against the core of her, and watch her eyes widen.

Her teeth tug at the side of her lip and she arches, sliding a leg and squeezing her calf against mine.

As I press a kiss high on her cheek, my words are a taunting whisper. “Ready to admit it now? I’ll stop—all you have to do is tell me the real reason you came to my room, Peep.” A miniscule chip in my brain urges her to concede, but the jaw-clenching sweetness of her long limbs wrapped around and clinging to me short circuits every other thought.

“Maybe I came to see if you were warm enough?” Her fingernails skim my sides, and I suck in a shiver.

“I’m not—and you’re lying,” I say, kissing the other cheek. I spread my knees slowly, easing her legs farther open. “You feel so good, baby.” I breathe against her ear, kissing a slow line over the side of her cheek and trailing lower, down her neck. “You should really just admit it.” Her legs move higher on my thighs, and her hands stroke my back, alternating between a sensual massage and an intense grip. Everything in her touch yearns for a response. My cock strains, pulsing from the rush of blood.

“What if you’re wrong? What if I came here to tell you the house is haunted?”

I breathe out a half laugh and reach for the hem of her tank. I pause, rubbing the backs of my knuckles against the bare skin of her waist, teasing. “Then I’d have to teach you a lesson for lying.”

I pull the tank high, cupping her breast. She gasps my name as I drop my mouth on her warm skin and draw wet circles around her nipple.

“I’m only trying to protect you from spirits,” she says, a tease in her voice.

“God, Priscilla.” My words come out in a husky exhale. I’m so hard it hurts. I twist and splay a hand against her inner thigh, intending to move my fingers over her boxer shorts, but I catch the edge, and before I can talk myself out of it, I’m moving the fabric aside and touching her.

She moans, arching her back. I slow my movement and kiss the corner of her mouth. “Okay?”

“Mm hmm,” she murmurs, and a smile creeps over her features. I shift onto my side, propping my hand under my head and leaving one leg braced over her open thighs. I study the small, sensual expressions she’s making as my fingers stroke.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” I say. I want to watch her face like this while I’m inside of her. I clench my jaw. I shouldn’t think about it. We can’t go that far. She rolls onto her side, facing me. Her hands roam lower over my stomach, skimming down my sweats, stroking my cock over the fabric.

“Preston…”

“God, baby…”

I slide a finger slowly inside of her. She moans, clenching my bicep with one hand as her other hand grips tight to my cock, running her thumb over the tip of me—a timid stroke.

“I want you,” she whispers.

I move my hand to the back of her neck and pull her close. God, I want to rip my pants off and drive into her. She’s wet and ready…

“I want this,” she says, gripping me harder and moving her hand to the waistband.

I look down at her. I don’t think she realizes she’s said it, but I do, and it reminds me of my vow. She’s staring at me with the most sensual, loving look on her face. My hands are withdrawing slowly. Her mouth opens, and the passionate expression melts into confusion. I grip her wrist and draw a ragged breath. Her fingers open, and I rise to my knees. I sit back, exhale hard, and rake a hand through my hair.

“I didn’t mean for you to stop,” she says, rising slowly with a panicked look on her face.

I should not have done this to her. But I know if I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to.

“I didn’t want to stop,” she says, and I can hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“I know. I did.” I’m panting, trying to gather my thoughts so I can explain this with enough sensitivity. “I didn’t mean for things to go that far. I thought you understood. I was going to call your bluff—and you called mine.”

Her mouth opens wide, and a small flinch shadows her lids. She slumps back with a stricken look on her face.

Fuck.

“Oh.” She swallows hard. “So you were bluffing?” she asks, her voice fades and her eyes wilt at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what you said.”

I’m struggling with the thought of what this will do to us. At the very least, I shouldn’t do this with her until she knows everything, until we’re past the hearing. But how long can I realistically expect her to understand. I’m throwing her mixed signals, but I can’t help myself.

Tan legs flip in front of me and land on the floor with a soft one-two thud.

“Priscilla!” I reach for her and miss. Shit. She yanks the door open, and I bolt behind her, catching her around the waist in the hallway. “Wait, please just listen for a minute,” I whisper as she squirms in my arms.

A deep sound echoes close, as if someone is clearing his throat. We freeze and look up. Ben is standing in the center of the hallway, staring at us with his arms crossed over his huge chest. Great.

I don’t have a sister, but if I did, I sure as hell would not be happy to see her boyfriend tackling her in the hallway at one a.m. I release her and she straightens, flipping her tousled hair over her shoulder.

Ben’s gaze focuses on me like a hot laser, shifts to Priscilla, and then to back me.

“And what are you doing out of bed at one in the morning?” Priscilla asks him. “Your bedroom’s this way, as I recall.”

Only Priscilla would think going on the offense was a good idea right now. Then again, maybe she wants to see her hulk of a brother take me down. I’ve been paired against plenty of big guys, and I’m sure I could hold my own for a while, but I doubt I could keep up with Ben—nor would I ever want to try.

He closes the distance between us until he’s a foot away, and speaks low. “Because I know my sister, I’m going to assume the two of you are just working something out.” I nod and Priscilla raises her chin, neither confirming nor denying the “get out of an ass-whipping free” card he just flipped me. “Besides,” he says, clapping my chest, “bearing the brunt of Priscilla’s temper is worse than anything I could throw your way. Good luck, man.” He chuckles and walks past us.

His door clicks shut, and I raise a brow toward Priscilla’s crossed-arm pout. “Will you let me walk you back to your room?” She hesitates and I add, “Please, for fuck’s sake.”

The side of her mouth twitches—a begrudging concession. She crosses the wide hallway and opens a door. I follow her in, watching her move to the end of the bed. She loops an arm around the tall post and drops her cheek against it.

Clearly, my abrupt bedroom shift has left her feeling rejected, which is ridiculous. I could laugh at the irony—I’ve never wanted any girl the way I want her. The sadness weighing on her features shoots ice into my veins.

I close the distance between us. “Priscilla…” My hands move to the sides of her face, and her fingertips curl around my forearms as I raise the angle of her gaze directly to mine. “Nothing about you or our relationship is a bluff to me.” Her head sags into my hand, and I move my thumb over her cheek.

“I need to know that you understand that. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, and I want you so bad, Babe.” A shudder ripples through my chest. I kiss her mouth and feel the soft pull of her lips. “It’s physically painful for me to pull away from you like that.”

“Then why do you keep doing it, Preston? If it hurts you and it hurts me, why do you keep doing it?”

I’m silent. Her words assail my senses, pelting me with guilt. I can’t stay away from her, and when I’m with her, I can’t resist touching her. I rub the knot at the base of my neck and move to sit on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath. I have to move us out of this gray area or she’s going to kick me to the curb, and I can’t bear the thought of that.

I exhale a frustrated breath and speak slowly. “There are some things that have gone on with our football program—things that I’ve been involved in and things that I’ve fought against. I can’t tell you everything I know, but I think that bar fight may have had something to do with those problems.”