What he wants he gets…
Knox Masters is a quarterback’s worst nightmare. Warrior. Champion. And…virgin. Knox knows what he wants–and he gets it. All American Football player? Check. NFL pros scouting him? Check. Now, he’s set his sight on two things. The national title. And Ellie Campbell. Sure, she’s the sister of his fellow teammate, but that’s not going to stop him. Especially not when he’s convinced Ellie is the one.
…but he’s never met her before.
But Ellie isn’t as sure. She’s trying to start a new life and she’s not interested in a relationship…with anyone. Beside it’s not just her cardinal rule of never dating her brother’s teammates that keeps her away, but Ellie has a dark secret that would jeopardize everything Knox is pursuing.
Knox has no intention of losing. Ellie has no intention of giving in.
I lock my legs to keep from falling over and pull out the biggest barrel I have. “Masters, there are things about me that if you knew you wouldn’t want to spend another minute in my presence.”
He considers my words, the silence taking on a heaviness and part of me already aches for what I could have if I was just any other girl at Western. “Have you killed anyone?” he finally asks. I can feel his eyes assessing me and I keep my gaze averted afraid of what
I’ll see in his moss green gaze.
“Have you slept with my brother?”
“What?” I can’t prevent myself from gawking at Masters, who’s smiling as he asks the question. “No! God, I’ve never even met him!”
“Are you catfishing poor athletes from Auburn? Wait, don’t answer that because I don’t think I’d find that objectionable. Oh, I have it—” He snaps his fingers.
“This isn’t a joke, Masters.”
He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Until you tell me what it is, it’s not a reason to be apart either.”
I suck in my lower lip to prevent throwing myself at him and telling him to take me.
“Why?” I ask helplessly.
“Because I like you.”
He grips me by the chin and lays down gentlest, sweetest kiss. In that kiss he tells me everything. That he wants me. That he’s willing to take it slow. That he’s not giving up.
He kisses me as if this is the only thing he wants to do for the next ten hours.
His lips barely move but I can feel everything in me surge toward him. The short wedges
I shoved on this morning suddenly feel precarious. I grip his shoulders to steady myself and then find myself rising up on my tiptoes to press deeper against him. He hauls me flush against him until I can no longer touch the floor.
His one hand palms nearly my entire back while the other angles my head for better access. He may be a virgin, but the guy knows how to kiss. His tongue is finding places inside my mouth that I didn’t even know would feel good.
All the pent up desire that has been boiling in me for days comes pouring out of me. I attack him with my next kiss, biting his lower lip, sucking on his tongue. Against my belly I can feel the hard ridge of his erection.
“God,” I breathe as he abandons my mouth to trace the line of my jaw with his lips. He growls in response and pushes me back against the bookcases but I don’t even mind that the shelves are biting into my back. I just want more.
And he gives it to me. We cling to each other, feeding off of each other’s seemingly endless need until I hear a gasp and then a muted giggle. And those two faint sounds somehow manage to break through the haze of lust and bring with it the realization that
I am in a very public place. I wriggle against him and he sets me down reluctantly.
“We’re in the bookstore,” I say in a scandalized voice.
“You’ve never kissed a guy in the bookstore before?” He grins, the wicked mischievous one I’m beginning to associate with something tremendously naughty. “There’s a first time for everything.”