Score (Skin in the Game Book 1) (5 page)

But she let out a short laugh and some of the tension seemed to leave her body. “This from the guy who just did a strip tease for an entire roomful of people? I figured you were high on liquid courage. Or is that ego all natural?”

“I’m not drunk. I’ve had a couple, sure, but my faculties are intact.”

“Okay, then. What are we supposed to do in here for the next seven minutes?” she asked.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

I should’ve left it like that. It would’ve made things so much easier. But the words were out before I could stop them.

“If you don’t want to.”

The silence was thicker than molasses and the tension was back, tenfold.

“If
I
don’t want to? What about you?”

“I could think of something to pass the time.”

She let out a tinny laugh. “Considering the name of this game is called Screw, I’m worried about what.”

I found myself grinning again, which seemed to happen a lot when Bee was around. “Nah. I will make sure your ankles leave here with their virtue intact. Because you’re mine. I walk the line.”

“What?” she demanded, her voice not much more than a strangled squeak.

“The song.”

Her mumbled response was so low, I had to lean down to hear it. “Oh, duh. Yeah.”

I knew she was blushing. I could almost feel the heat coming off her cheeks in the darkness. “I wish I could have the same assurances from you,” I teased softly. “You know, me being nearly naked, and all. Most girls wouldn’t hesitate to use this to their advantage.”

“You’re safe. Believe me,” she said in a rush. I heard her exhale and felt her warm breath on my chest.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Once I got started, I couldn’t resist egging her on. “Because you know, you’re so close to me, and it’s so dark, and…you’re not even thinking about it?”

“Uh. No.” Her hand went up and grazed my bare arm but she yanked it away like it was on fire. “Oh. Er. Sorry.”

I laughed again. “You didn’t touch anything inappropriate.”

“Oh, well, thank God. How long do we have to stay in here, again?”

“Seven minutes. If you’re hinting that you want to stay longer, that could be arranged.”

“No! Look, I didn’t sign up for this,” she said, her voice going reed thin. “A party, a few drinks, sure. You better tell Professor Maxwell I’m a healing goddess. It’s freezing in here. This is cruel and unusual.”

She was rambling, and I was pretty sure I knew why.

She could play chilly all she liked, but she wanted me. She didn’t want to want me. But she did.

The blood rushed to my cock as her scent filled my head. “Well, just imagine how I feel. I’m the one with almost no clothes on.”

Honestly, I was feeling the best I had all day. I wasn’t in that smoky house with the same old drunk assholes. I was with Bee in a closet and she was being kind of adorable. I could’ve stayed in there a hell of a lot longer than seven minutes. “I have to thank you, though. You saved me from Renee out there.”

“Saved you?” she said with a snort-laugh, sounding comfortable for the first time since we’d entered the closet. “She’s gorgeous. Why wouldn’t you want to be with her?”

“She’s a pretty face, so I should nail her, huh? You don’t think very much of us football players, do you? We’re all shallow?”

“No, I—”

“It’s cool. You don’t know me, and everyone has a right to their opinion.”

“I’m sorry,” she said after a while, sounding miserable.

I wasn’t even really mad, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out of my mouth. “Prove it.”

She swallowed hard enough for me to hear it. “Like…what do you mean?”

What
did
I mean? Instead of thinking it to death, I led with my gut. I reached out a hand, making contact with her hair then slid down to stroke the silky skin of her cheek. She sucked in a breath as I tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips.

I half-expected her to pull away or sock me or something. But she didn’t. Her lips parted on a gasp, so I slipped my tongue in there. Teasing, sliding, tasting. And hell, I don’t know what she did with that beer because I couldn’t detect a trace of it on her—she tasted sweet, and warm, and her lips were so fucking pillowy and soft.

I could’ve stayed there forever.

Her hands stayed at her side for a long moment, then slid around my back, as she let out a soft, sexy little moan. The kiss got heavy and hard and hot, and at that point I didn’t need breath—I could live on this feeling alone. She crushed her full breasts against me and I ran my hands down to that amazing ass of hers, for the first time wishing to hell she hadn’t rolled ANKLES.

I wanted to explore the rest of her body the way I was exploring her mouth, but I knew I had to take it slow. I lifted her sweater and slipped my fingers under the waistband of her jeans, cupping those sexy, smooth hips. My cock pushed against her abdomen, attempting to fight its way out of my boxers as the adrenaline coursed through me.

She pulled away suddenly and let out a soft sigh that sounded like music. “What are we doing?” she murmured, sounding lost and confused, but not stepping out of my embrace, either.

“I don’t know,” I said, honestly. This wasn’t the plan. Hell, I hadn’t even expected her to show up. But now that she was here, it was all I could do to keep my hands off her. “Do you want to stop?” I asked. The rasp of my voice gave away how bad I wanted her, but I didn’t care.

The pause felt like a year and then, to my surprise, she whispered, “No.”

Slowly, her hands slid up my bare chest. I followed suit, trailing my fingers up to her ribcage, to the band of her bra. I paused there, wondering if I should dare to take the next step. If she’d even let me. But everything about her right now had surprised me, and in a fucking awesome way, so I went for it. I cupped her full breast in one hand and used the other to press her even closer, groaning into her mouth when her hips flexed against mine. The urge to tug those jeans down and cup her pussy—test that soft flesh to see if she was as wet as I was hard—was so strong, it sent the blood roaring in my ears.

Her nipple peaked and I plucked at it gently through the silky fabric of her bra. When she shivered in my arms, the thrumming of my cock became a throbbing ache. She was so responsive that the need to make her shiver or moan just one more time eclipsed everything else. The music from the party, the cramped closet, it all faded to black and Bee Mitchell became the focal point of my world.

My fingertips dug into the lush flesh of her hip as I grinded against her. She whimpered, and I wedged a hand between us, tearing my mouth from hers.

“Jesus, Bee. I need to touch you so b—”

The door flew open without warning, casting us both in blinding light, and applause filled the air.

Bee drew back with a gasp and I stood there blinking furiously, trying to adjust to the brightness. First thought? How had seven minutes gone by already? Second thought? How the hell had I lost track of the fact that we were at a frat party in a closet?

My mind raced as I tugged Bee behind me to buy her a few seconds to get her shit together. When my eyes adjusted to the light a moment later, I noted Renee standing there, doorknob in hand. She glared at me for a second before wheeling around with a muttered curse. I made a grab for the door in an attempt to save Bee some embarrassment, but she was already pushing past me.

I could still taste her lips, which somehow made me think of sunshine despite the dark basement. Everyone was staring at me expectantly, and I opted to make light, hoping the less I made of it, the less everyone else would too. I pasted on a goofy smile and called after Bee, “You sure you’re okay to leave, or are your knees too weak to walk?”

She didn’t turn around at the chuckles and flipped me the bird over her shoulder.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she called as she grabbed her boots off the bar and jammed her feet into them. Then, she disappeared into the crowd, who laughed and “ooohed” playfully at her insult.

I watched her go, covering my erection with both hands, wondering if I’d pissed her off again or if she was doing like I was and playing it off like a joke for the crowd. They’d had their fun and had already moved on with the game, so it had been a good strategy, but who knew? She was a hard one to read. Cold and then hot. First, she annoyed me, and then, she intrigued me. And now, I wasn’t sure whether to follow her or give her some space.

As I stood there waiting for the hard on to end all hard on’s to subside, and her scent still filling my head, the only thing I was one hundred percent sure of?

I wanted more Bee.

A lot more.

I
kissed Callum Samskevitch
.

I’d gone to a frat party and had kissed Callum Samskevitch, right on the mouth.

And then the asshole had made some cocky remark about my knees being weak.

As if.

But as I climbed the stairs to the main floor where the DJ was spinning dance music so loud it was shaking the whole house, I had to grab on to the railing.

Air. I needed air.

Weak knees. Guilty as charged.

Holy shit. I kissed Callum Samskevitch.

The truth was, I’d had plenty of kisses, but I’d never been kissed
that
way. In that totally breathless, hungry way. It felt so perfect. Like I’d stumbled into one of those sexy black-and-white picture-postcards of two people making out. Like we should’ve been on a bridge over the Seine, under an umbrella, instead of in a stuffy frat closet. I could still feel the electric jolt that coursed through my body when he’d touched my cheek. He’d tugged on my lips gently, using teeth action, which I’d previously thought was a big no-no. But holy cow, it was
hot.

When it came to kissing girls, Cal was a pro.

Well, of course,
I reminded myself.
He’s probably done half the sorority girls in town.

I made my way through the throngs of people, looking for the front door, when Flora hooked an arm through mine.

“Oh. My. God,” she squealed. “Did my eyes deceive me, or did I see you going into a closet with Cal a little while ago?”

“It wasn’t a big deal.” My knees knew I was lying again because they were knocking together like a schoolgirl’s. “He had to escape from some clingy ex-girlfriend. I was just trying to help him out.”

“Oh, so you guys just sat in the closet and
talked?”
she shouted over the music, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“Yeah, obviously. He’s a football player, remember?” I wrinkled my nose in a further display of disgust but she could see through me like a pair of sunglasses.

“Right.”

Okay, yeah. Cal had been dead on when he said there probably weren’t many women who would’ve passed up the opportunity to take advantage of his nearly naked body. I flashed back to the way his hard chest had felt against my breasts—God, he had a perfect six pack, broad shoulders, corded muscles on his arms—and all of it had been within licking distance.

I’d never had the urge to treat anyone like a lollipop until now.

How could one kiss make me so crazy?

“I need a beer.” I barely managed to squeeze the words past my too-dry throat as I stepped up to the bar. Snagging the keg tap, I filled a red plastic cup with beer and then pressed it to my lips. Warm piss, just like Cal said, but it didn’t stop me from downing the whole thing.

A sour feeling settled in my stomach. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t tell Flora about the kiss. I’d spent pretty much all week telling her that football players were the scum of the earth.

Not to mention, it meant nothing. We’d only gone into the closet for show and what happened while we were in there was probably because a stud like Cal didn’t know what else to do with a girl in the dark.

It was a one off.

And it would never happen again.

The sourness inside quickly gave way to misery. Cal was out of my league, but
that
kiss.
What if that kiss had ruined me for anyone
in
my league?

No wonder they called that game Screw because that was exactly how I felt.

Screwed.

Desperate to stop thinking about him, I forced myself to change the subject. “How’d things go with that guy?”

She rolled her eyes and then launched into this long account. Flora couldn’t tell a story without turning it into
War and Peace,
with hand gestures. I managed to pay attention for all of two seconds before my stupid mind wandered back to the way Cal’s mouth had felt on mine. I found my eyes trailing to the basement door. I wondered if he’d already forgotten about the kiss.

And I missed just about all of Flora’s story.

“…but then he led me into his bedroom and pulled out these handcuffs and I was like, hell no! I don’t know him like that. So I was outta there quicker than you could say ‘Mother, may I
not
sleep with danger.’”

I blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You know, that Lifetime movie?
Mother May I Sleep with Danger?
With the psycho boyfriend who kidnaps Tori Spelling?”

I shook my head. “Must’ve missed that one.”

She laughed. “So, anyways, that dream I had of us? Being the cutest couple since Jessica and Justin?
Ka-boom.
”

She waved her hands to signify something exploding.

“But whatever. Fuck ‘em. Time is short, and the guys are plenty.” She surveyed the dance floor. It was nuts, wall-to-wall people all throbbing to the same beat.

I’d never understand how Flora could go from one obsession to the next without leaving any scars. I’d only wound up kissing Cal because he was trying to make Miss America leave him alone, and yet I just about had his name tattooed inside of a heart on my cerebellum.

I wanted to bang my head repeatedly against a wall somewhere. Amnesia would be my friend.

Instead, I grabbed another beer. Cal was right. After a while, it
did
start going down like water.

Ugh. Forget what Cal says!

The DJ started spinning a new Kanye mash-up, and everyone on the dance floor roared.

“This is my song!” Flora squealed.

She grabbed my hand and led me out to the center of the floor, where a few of the Kappa pledges were already dancing in a circle. Flora started to dance in a way only Flora could. She always put it all out there, shaking everything God gave her and looking super-hot in the process. The second she started, every male eye in a twenty-foot radius was on her. The Kappa pledges hooted and hollered. She danced, oblivious to all of them.

I watched my bestie closely, trying to channel her
Fuck ‘em
attitude. The beer had definitely worked its way through my veins because everything was a little hazy in a good way. I began to wiggle my hips to the beat, imitating some of her moves.

I lifted my arms over my head and spun in a small circle, then closed my eyes and got lost in the music. Who the fuck cared where Cal was? I was young, free, strong, independent. I didn’t need some freaking football player to tell me my worth.

So why could I still feel the pressure of his lips on mine? Why could I still feel the way his warm hands felt on the small of my back, exploring underneath my sweater?

Why did I want more?

By the end of the song, my whole body was buzzing. I opened my eyes and saw him there, like a mirage, standing at the edge of the dance floor. Clothed again, obviously, but his dark hair was kind of every which way, which somehow only made him hotter. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at me but the fact was?

He’d been staring at me.

Not Miss America. Not Flora. Not anyone else.

Me.

There was no mistake because our eyes locked. He had a sexy, half-smile on his face, and there was a little glint of something dangerous in his eyes. And okay, I wasn’t an expert on guys at all, but I’d seen that look a time or two.

Cal wanted me. Not because we mashed together in the closet and what the hell. Like, he actually wanted me.

Likely he was drunk, but still, there it was. And I was
definitely
drunk, because I didn’t freak out about it. The next song came on and I kept dancing, meeting and matching his gaze, until everyone else just melted away and we were the only two people in the room.

White hot electricity zipped back and forth between us as my mind flooded with possibilities.

And every single one of those possibilities had his mouth on mine again.

“Hey, you okay, Bee?”

I broke from the trance. A Rihanna song was playing now, and Flora was looking at me like I’d just puked on her shoes. I tried not to glance back at Cal again but failed miserably and she caught on, following my line of vision. She grinned and waved at him.

Shit.
Busted.

All the Kappa pledges were staring now, too. Flora grinned in her feline way. I knew she’d open her mouth and call Cal and me lovebirds. That was all it took to drag me back to reality.

The look he was giving me? It meant nothing. What difference did it make if he wanted to fuck me tonight? It didn’t change the fact that he was who he was, and I was who I was. If we hooked up, it would be like some sad, millennial Breakfast Club where the jock and misfit went about their lives and pretended it never happened.

All well and good, except in a couple days, I’d have to face him in the locker room again.

Whatever fantasies were running through my booze-muddled mind could never become reality.

I had to jet before I made a bad situation worse.

“I’m getting tired,” I told Flora. “I think I should go.”

She’d been locked in a conversation with one of the pledges about the last season of The Bachelor and she paused mid-sentence and looked at me. “I’ll walk with you.”

“Forget it. Have fun. I’ll text you when I get back to the house.”

It was like a block away and I wasn’t about to wait for her to argue with me. I turned and raced for the door, pretending I didn’t hear her calling after me over the din of the music.

Despite the snow, I jogged down the porch stairs without incident. When I reached the sidewalk, I paused to suck in big breaths of frigid air as I thought of what could have happened.

I hated myself for the way he’d made me feel. Cal was a pro, but I was
not.
In fact, I was far from it. Strong? Confident? Ha. As tough of a façade as I put on, I was
so
not equipped to deflect the level of charm he was capable of throwing my way.

The snow was coming down even harder now. I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, dug my chin into my chest, and started down the sidewalk.

“Come on, Bee, don’t fly away already.”

Embarrassingly, my head jerked up like I was a puppet on a string at the sound of his voice.

I whirled on the snow-covered sidewalk and saw Cal walking toward me at the same moment I felt my boots start to lose traction. Before my feet could fly out from under me, he lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Whoa. Steady there.”

I could feel the heat of his hand on my arm, even through my sweater. Part of me wanted to push him away, but instead I just stood there, staring at it as snowflakes accumulated in the tiny hairs on his muscular forearm.

“What are you doing out here?” he finally asked.

The cold air had completely dissolved my buzz leaving behind only a strange hyperawareness. I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Going home.”

“Shit, it’s cold.” He took his hand off my arm and dug them both into his back pockets, then rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Why?”

“I’m tired.”

“Bah,” he waved the idea away. “It’s Saturday night. Sleep when you’re dead.”

“Try telling my body that. It’s actually half-asleep right now.”

He cupped his hands over his mouth and blew into them. “Shit, it’s Arctic. Come back inside where it’s warm.”

“Well, I’m going to have to come out eventually. I can’t exactly sleep at the frat house. Duh.”

He squinted at me. “Well, technically, you
could.
They have a couple spare rooms.”

The very idea that he and I could stay warm in one of them made my whole body tingle, but I shut it down with the ruthlessness of a medieval executioner.

“Yeah. As appetizing as sleeping on sheets that probably haven’t been washed since my freshman year sounds, I think I’ll just sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he said, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “But this weather blows.”

“Then go inside. I gotta Stolpa.” I turned around and started down the sidewalk again. The snow was already so deep I could feel it trickling under the tops of my boots.

He followed. “Stolpa?”

“Kappa talk. You know, for the Lifetime movie? The Stolpas? Forget it.”

He laughed. “I’m shocked that you talk Kappa. You seem different than all of them.”

“I thought I was. And yet somehow I ended up at a frat party tonight.”

“Oh, but you had fun.”

“Maybe.” I couldn’t tell him that it was more than fun. That he’d pretty much blown to oblivion every previous sexual experience I’d ever had with one kiss. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “You shouldn’t be out alone at night. I’ll walk you.”

Trying to hide my surprise, I nodded and moved aside. We walked in silence for a little bit.

When we were almost on Sorority Row, the tension became too much. “I can take it from here,” I said with a forced smile. “Go back. You might hurt your knee worse if you slip or something.”

Plus, there was so much snow everywhere that even demented rapists probably didn’t want to be out in it. I’d be fine for the next hundred yards.

“Nope,” he said, shivering. His voice was hollow, and his words were clipped. “My doctor said not to baby it, anyway. Walking keeps me from getting stiff. Nothing less than door-to-door service. I’m a gentleman.”

“A gentleman who’s about three seconds from turning into an icicle,” I observed, still not meeting his eyes as I tried not to let my mind drift back to the parts of him that
had
been stiff just a few minutes earlier. God, he’d felt so good…

“What do you do when you’re on the field, and it’s like, zero degrees out?”

“It never bothers me then. It’s like adrenaline, I guess. It kind of makes everything else fade to the background but that excitement. Sort of like I felt earlier.”

I couldn’t help but look at him, but only for a second. Was he talking about our kiss? Maybe, but what difference did it make? I’d felt his erection against my stomach. His body had reacted to me because that’s what guy bodies do. So what if I got his blood pumping?

My body obviously thought it was a big deal, though, because even though it was cold as ass outside, I started to blush again. And then I started thinking about his lips again…