Page 72 of Under Pressure

I force my gaze to remain up at the ceiling out of fear of what I’ll see if I look at him right now. He gently pulls my shorts back up my legs and then runs his lips over my belly. I grow stiff beneath him, not used to this kind of touch anymore.

Risking a glance down at him, I watch his big hands travel up my sides and cup my breasts before he drags his mouth over my belly button and to the skin between both heavy swells. He doesn’t touch my nipples, though I can tell by the way he’s staring at them now that he wants to. I’m too sensitive for that now, so I’m grateful when he just kisses the tops of my boobs and then brings his lips to mine.

I close my eyes and respond softly, even when alarm bells begin blaring in my mind. I’m calmer now than I’ve been in forever, and for as long as he kisses me, I know I’ll stay that way.

Even if allowing this to continue is completely reckless.

27

She didn’t letme stay, and I wasn’t expecting her to.

The moment we recovered from the most exquisite sexual experience of my entire life—yes,exquisite, which isn’t a word usually in my vocabulary—I was ushered out the door. It’s been an entire day, and I still haven’t stopped replaying it in my mind.

Not when she hid away in the spare room while I microwaved one of the premade meals the team’s new nutritionists set up for us, or when I hung out on the deck to watch the sunset and heard her bedroom door creak open and her soft footsteps leading to the pantry. I couldn’t stop thinking about it even when I forced myself to head to my own room well past when I should have, only after finding her mug in the sink and the jar of organic honey shifted on the shelf from where she put it earlier in the day.

I’m not a virgin in the slightest sense. Hiding my sex life wasn’t anything I considered doing up until a few months ago, when the articles about it started popping up everywhere I looked. I shouldn’t feel so goddamn mind-blown about what we did together. Going down on a woman isn’t a new experience for me, and fuck—I’ve been kissing since I was thirteen years old.

But until yesterday, I hadn’t kissed a woman like Quinn, andI couldn’t have even so much as fathomed going down on one, either.

Kissing her was euphoric. It tweaked something in my soul and slotted a bunch of jostled pieces into place. Smoothed out a few chips that I hadn’t noticed were ever there in the first place. I feel more like myself now than I ever have.

I’ve never believed in fate, nor have I wanted to. But how the hell can I have experienced what I did yesterday without believing insomething? It’s like there was a Beck before Quinn, and a Beck after Quinn, only the after version can’t remember what the before looked or felt or sounded like.

Honest to God, I thought she was going to block my number when I texted her from the stadium and told her about the game tonight and the ticket I got her. It was a risk asking her to come at all, even if what happened yesterday hadn’t. And it was an even bigger risk telling her that if she said yes, she’d be joining a bunch of women she hardly knows.

I wouldn’t have blamed her if she turned me down. Only she didn’t. Her response was actually witty.

Only if nobody teases me for my lack of baseball knowledge.

Nobody would have, even if I hadn’t sent the group message that I did to Aubrey, Brielle, and Roman’s niece, Evie.

RED ALERT!!!!

Ellie

Did your ego finally explode?

Bree

If so, is there a video?

Okay, rude. And no. I need you to be super welcoming, super sweet, and super not as loud as usual tonight.

Evie

Do you have a girlfriend?

Ellie

EVIE! Don’t jinx it.

Evie

Soooorry! I just got excited. I accidentally ordered ten extra Wine and Unwind wine glasses and Uncle dropped one on the floor this morning so . . . It would be nice to give one to another member of the group before he ended up destroying them all.

Bree

Woah. Slow down. How do we know we want her to be in our group?