Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
He stood putting himself right in my space. “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying flat out that if you were a better boyfriend, your boyfriend wouldn’t be so worried about my… girlfriend.”
Too little too late. I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend? Or best friend? You seem to be confused.”
Mal’s tan skin was bright pink over his cheeks, and his blue eyes flashed like a warning for someone smart enough to take it: Back off.
Clearly, I was not that smart. “Relationship advice is pretty rich coming from you. I handed you that win today—”
“You did it for Ava.”
“—and I tried to help you yesterday—”
“I never asked you to, Mr. Perfect!”
“—so what exactly is your problem with me?”
Mal’s nostrils flared, and the way he stared at me made my spine prickle with the need to fight or flee, fight or flee, or maybe…
Mal lunged forward—or, hell, maybe I did?—and we found a third option, one that involved his two hands latching onto my hair like an anchor in a storm and his open mouth pressed to mine.
Holy shit.
Mal’s kiss wasn’t anything like I’d expected. It started out confident, defiant, almost like a punishment, but the second our tongues touched, the battle became a dance, and the clash a smooth glide. The kiss softened from an exclamation point to a question mark, and I could nearly taste his surprise, an echo of my own, in the tangy, sweet flavor of his mouth and the way he rubbed his body against me.
It felt so good, so fucking right and necessary, that I wrapped both of my arms around him to hold him in place, one hand landing low on his back just above the curve of his ass, while the other went higher, keeping our chests pressed together. This was the only kind of win I wanted, in that moment. The only prize worth having.
“Oh, fuck, you’re good at that,” he muttered, breaking away. His hot breath gusted against my cheek in ragged pants, and his fingers pulled at my hair, tilting my head back so he could scrape his teeth over my chin. “I fucking knew it would be like this. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You are so fucking hot.”
Every fuck hit me on a subconscious level, amping up my need, even before my brain had a chance to parse them and figure out what he was saying. But a second later it didn’t matter—nothing else mattered—because his lips were back on mine, and Mal—who was a goddamn genius and true hero—rolled his hips so our hard cocks rubbed against each other.
I groaned and he did it again, pushing me back into the desk. Again and something behind me clattered, sending paper clips flying as my hand gripped at his ass cheek like the safety bar on a Tilt-A-Whirl. Again and the damn printer started humming and whirring.
Connection Established.
And then some.
“Holy shit, Mal,” I breathed, not caring about where we were or who we were or who was waiting on us. “Don’t stop. Please—”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Paul called from the top of the stairs. “How long does it take to get some fucking ginger ale? Are you brewing it?”
Mal jumped away like I was a live wire, and for a single second, we stared at each other, shocked and appalled and wanting.
“Brooks?” Paul yelled again.
I swallowed. “Yeah! No, we’re coming. We… I… The printer wouldn’t connect, and Mal, uh… helped me fix it.” I gave Mal a helpless shrug. It wasn’t a lie.
A sheet of paper fell out of the printer and drifted to the floor beside me.
Mal pushed both hands through his hair and gave a huff of disbelieving laughter, but his eyes were dazed, and I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around him before we had to go upstairs. To my “boyfriend.” And his… Ava.
Shit. This was the part where I was supposed to feel guilty. Where I did feel guilty, damn it.
Mal’s eyes took on a panicked look. He adjusted his jeans and bent to get the soda off the floor.
“Wait!” I said softly after he stood. I grabbed the shoulders of his T-shirt and smoothed it down, then tucked his rumpled hair behind his ear. “Okay. You’re good.”
“Mr. Perfect,” Mal said, except it didn’t sound like an insult this time. Or not entirely. And that made the breath I’d only just caught stutter in my chest.
He hurried up the stairs while I breathed deeply and waited for my papers, trying very hard not to think about what we’d just done.
8
Mal
It was surreal to go from kissing Brooks to getting a lecture from his boyfriend about what a shit partner I was to Ava. If he only knew. I felt awful. I’d truly thought the man was straight and just pretending to be with Brooks for whatever reason, but when he’d kissed Brooks in front of the entire town earlier today, I’d had to admit I could be wrong.