Page 22 of Shootout
“I have an SUV too.”
I gave him directions to Jason’s condo, and he pulled onto the street. I studied him in the dashboard light, appreciating the strength in his arms and the way he casually gripped the steering wheel. He drove the car easily as if the two of them were longtime friends.
“We should decide when we’re going through our breakup,” I blurted out. Banks’s brow furrowed, and he surprised me by pulling the car to the curb.
“We shouldn’t rush into anything.”
“We already did. We’ve concocted a story that gets us in deeper every time we—” The intensity in his eyes stopped me in midconversation.
“Or we could work a little harder at playing the part.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” He leaned toward me. Instead of rebuking what was certain to be another bad move, I leaned into him, unable to stop myself. Our lips met, and every rational thought melted into the floorboard of the car. When he made a move to deepen the kiss, I eagerly accepted. This time we weren’t being watched by a bar full of people. Just him and me in the privacy of his car. Somewhat. Sitting on a city street in his car wasn’t exactly private, but more so than in a bar.
When Banks finally drew back, his eyes were on my lips, and his own curved into a half smile.
“You sure you want to end this soon?” Banks asked.
“I’m not sure of anything just now. Eventually, we have to.”
“Why not have some fun in the process? We’re consenting adults, and I’m attracted to you. I’ve never dated a hockey gold medalist before.”
“Are we talking about dating or fucking?” I pointed out the elephant in the room with my usual directness and held my breath until he responded.
He snorted out a laugh. “Damn, nothing like beating around the bush, or should I say beating the bush?”
“I’ve never been accused of being subtle.”
“Me neither. For the sake of not being subtle, I really want to fuck you.”
I pondered his declaration for a split second before responding. “I want to fuck you, too.”
“Your brother doesn’t need to know.”
I laughed because my brother assumed we were doing way more than we were. “I’m sure he already thinks we are.”
Banks toyed with a lock of my hair and slid his hands up my ribs, taking his time as if he were counting each one. When he touched the swells of my breasts, I sucked in a breath. Oxygen deprivation had to be causing my current state of light-headedness.
“I don’t even know you,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
“Let’s get to know each other better.”
I started to point out we might want to go elsewhere, but his mouth was on mine again, and I forgot. His hands slid behind my back, and he expertly unhooked my bra. He pushed the front of my SHAC T-shirt upward, along with my bra.
He gazed downward with a wicked grin. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
“I am, or they are?”
“All one and the same.” He bent his head and tasted one nipple. I gasped as my body was zapped by a current of electricity, leaving me dazed. Banks cradled the other breast, weighing it in his hand, before pinching my nipple. He ran his tongue over the other nipple, nibbling at the sensitive skin surrounding it before taking that hard nub into his mouth and sucking while flicking it with his tongue. At the same time, he pinched the other. I groaned and threw my head back, wriggling in my seat, needing more than he was currently giving me.
I buried my fingers in his thick hair and cried out as my entire body caught fire and burned for him.
“We should go somewhere private,” I panted.
He didn’t respond. He was too busy with his divine version of sexual torture.
“Banks, we need to find a place before this gets out of hand.”
