But he can feel my gaze on him, and finally he turns to look at me, a closed-mouth smile curling his perfect lips. “You hate my movie choice, huh?”

“No, not at all.” I try to turn my attention to the laptop screen, but I can’t get into it. My eyes travel back to Wade like they can’t help themselves, and I find that he’s still watching me. That same smile still on his face, his dark eyes warm as they study me. “Okay, fine, yes, I hate it.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“I was trying to be agreeable.”

He leans in a little closer, his face practically in mine. “Maybe I don’t always like agreeable.”

“Seriously?” He must be a liar. All men appreciate agreeable. At least, the ones I know seem to.

“I kind of like it when you put up a fight.”

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“You don’t always agree with what I say. And when you were giving me shit about the band thing earlier—I know I was irritated, but I also kind of liked the back and forth with you.” He reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face.

“So you’re saying you like it when we argue.”

“Uh huh.”

“Even when I disagree with you.”

“Well, yeah. I like a challenge.” His hand moves down, fingers brushing the side of my neck before he curves them around my nape. “It’s more exciting, don’t you think?”

What’s exciting is lying in his bed with his hands on me. I turn so I’m facing him head on, meeting his gaze for the briefest moment before his drops to focus on my lips. They tingle, like he’s literally touching them, and my entire body aches with anticipation. “Shouldn’t we be watching the movie?”

“Did you really come here tonight to watch a movie, Sydney?” He arches a brow, the look incredibly sexy, and I’m tempted to throw myself at him.

But I don’t. Not yet. The delicious anticipation slipping through my veins as we stare at each other, barely touching each other, tells me this is going to be worth the wait. “Did you really invite me here tonight to watch a movie, Wade?”

His fingers tighten around the back of my neck and he pulls me in closer. So close, our chests bump and I reach out, my fingers brushing against the hot, hard skin of his chest.

Oh my God, this man is going to be the absolute death of me.

“I don’t want to watch a movie.” He lifts his leg and kicks the laptop shut, the room immediately going dark.

“You should put away your laptop.” Could I sound any lamer? What am I, his mom?

“Fuck the laptop.” He nudges the laptop off the bed with his foot. I hear it land with a soft thud on the floor and I want to say something. Tell him he’s being crazy and neglectful, but I keep my mouth shut.

Not like I can talk anyway, what with the way Wade just pressed his lips to mine.

I close my eyes and sink into Sydney’s mouth, tasting her, savoring her, caressing the back of her neck with gentle fingers. The first touch of my mouth on hers lights a spark between us, flaming higher and higher with every stroke of our tongues, every shuddering breath across heated skin, every whispered sigh. She shifts closer to me, both of her hands resting on my chest before she starts sliding her fingers eagerly across my skin, making me shiver. I was hot enough before we started this.

Now I feel like I’m on fucking fire, just from her hands lightly touching my chest.

Wasting no time, my tongue searches her mouth, and I circle her tongue with mine, making her whimper. That needy little sound goes straight to my dick and I tug on her silky hair, tilting her head back so I can deepen the kiss. And she lets me, her head falling back, her lips still locked with mine. Her enthusiasm fuels me, driving me to take more, take harder, take faster, but I remind myself to keep it slow. Keep it easy.

The last thing I want to do is scare her off.

Her hands are everywhere. Wandering. Searching. Along my shoulders, across my collarbone, sliding over my pecs, cruising down along my ribs, my stomach. She’s not shy when she touches me. In fact, she’s downright greedy as her fingers curl around the waistband of my sweats, her knuckles brushing against sensitive, rarely touched skin, making me quiver.

Making me sweat.

I try to pull away from her touch, but she just grips the top of my sweatpants tighter, refusing to let go. Her fingers slowly slide beneath the fabric, pausing before they go farther, and I hold my breath, waiting for that moment when she makes her discovery. A tiny gasp escapes her and she whips her head up, her surprised gaze meeting mine.

“Um.” A pause, and she licks her lips, the sight of her pink tongue driving me out of my mind. I exhale raggedly, trying to grasp onto the tiny threads of control I’ve pretty much lost, knowing exactly what she’s about to say. “Are you wearing any underwear?”

I shake my head. Couldn’t she tell from the tent I’m popping that I’m free balling it?

“Oh,” she whispers, her fingers drifting straight across my dick. It jerks beneath her touch. “Wow.”

Christ, her fingers on me feel good. I shut my eyes, clench my teeth so tight it almost hurts while she continues her exploration. She runs her fingers across my lower belly, just her thumb skimming the length of my erection then back up, which somehow feels erotic as hell. She’s hardly touching me, driving me out of my ever-lovin’ mind, and I need to make her quit. I haven’t been with a woman in months, not since I’ve started training with the Niners. One wrong move and I’m blowing. If she wraps her fingers around my cock and strokes once, that’s gonna be it. It’ll be all over.