She grins, as if proud of herself that she can toss it right back at me, but she quickly looks down at her books as if to hide both the grin and the blush that creeps across her face.
It doesn’t work.
“So is that an open invitation to your dorm?”
Her face goes a shade darker as she shoots me a quick look. She swallows thickly, her blue eyes meeting mine before she shrugs it off and looks back at her notebook. “Nope.”
I grin. “Aww, you don’t want any more sleepovers?”
The tips of her ears are red, even if she’s still burying her face in that book. “Um no, I don’t think my reputation would survive it.”
“Oh, I think me sleeping over would do wonders for your rep, actually.”
She looks up at me, then, the pen just teasing the corner of her lips. “We’re going to be related, Dalton,” she says quietly.
I hold that look of hers with my gaze. “No, we won’t be.”
We lock eyes for a full two seconds, before her eyes flash once and she drops her gaze again. She quickly shakes her head. “This is inappropriate,” she says quickly.
“Welcome to my world, darlin,” I murmur. I take another step towards where she’s sitting on the edge of her bed. “You got any more excuses inside that pretty head?”
“Excuses?”
I grin. “You know what I’m talking about.”
I’m teasing her, pushing her more than I know I should. But I can’t fucking help it. There’s something fucking magnetic - something primal - that keeps me there in that room and keeps me pushing this thing further and further.
She blinks quickly. “I’m sure I don’t.”
“I’d be happy to show you if you’re confused.”
She inhales sharply, that damn pen slipping back between her pouty lips. Her eyes narrow at me, and she suddenly pushes the book to the side. “I think you should leave,” she says quietly.
I roll my eyes. “Aww, c’mon, this little tit-for-tat was just starting to get good!”
She glares at me, “Out.”
She uncurls her legs, standing from the bed as she starts to push me back towards the door to her room. And I let her, even though I’m perfectly aware that I could pick her up right here and toss her right back on that bed.
“Oh, and I don’t have excuses, Dalton, I have reasons.” She smiles thinly at me before she puts her hand on my chest and pushes me out through her door. “Loads of them.”
And I’m about to drop it and walk away - really, I am.
But that fucking pen goes right back between her lips. They’re soft, and pink, and they wrap gently around it as her cheeks hollow slightly. And right then, right there, and just like that, I’m fucking done.
Hailey gasps, her eyes going wide as I suddenly push her back inside her room. I follow her in, kicking the door shut behind me, moving towards her with my jaw set and my eyes locked on her.
“Just what do you think you’re-”
“Anyone ever tell you you talk a lot?”
She frowns as she steps back. “What are you talking about?”
“You talk a lot, darlin,” I growl, taking another step towards her. “And you’re too damn smart for your own damn good.”
“I- what-” She’s frowning at me as she steps back against her dresser, her eyes darting across mine. “God, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of fucking talking and analyzing everything?” My pulse roars in my ears, and the world blurs to just background noise. It’s just her and me, locked eye to eye in that room.
“What? Dalton what the hell are you-”
“Well I’m done talking.”
Fuck it.
I kiss her just as she’s opening her mouth to say something. And right there, the whole world fucking shatters around us as I sear my lips across hers.
It’s so wrong, and so fucking inappropriate, and something about that gets me even harder as I growl into her mouth and push her back against the dresser. My hand slides up into her hair, pulling her into me as I claim her mouth with mine.
And she moans.
It’s not some kind of porn-star moan or anything over-the-top like some cheap sorority skank might do because she thinks it sounds sexy. Hell, it’s not even overtly sexual. But it’s there, just as I start to slide my tongue past those pillow-soft lips, and it’s enough to push me right over the last edge of my sanity.
My other hand slides up her body, teasing over each rib through her shirt as I move it higher. She shivers against me, and suddenly, her tongue is sliding right back against mine. I groan into her lips, my hand moving up to cup her jaw, and suddenly she’s kissing me right the fuck back. It’s hungry, and it’s fire, and lust, and raw.
Fucking hell, I’m kissing Hailey Garrison - my damn stepsister.
And it’s almost like she’s reading my damn thoughts, because the second the thought hits me, it’s over. Hailey gasps as she pulls away, her eyes going wide and then narrowing as her jaw drops and she shoves me away from her.
“Are you crazy!” She hisses, her eyes darting accusingly across my face. “We can’t!” She’s shaking her head, sucking in breaths of air. She looks at me, her eyes almost scared as she shakes her head. “Dalton, I have a boyfriend.”
Yeah, bullshit.
I growl as I grab her face and kiss her again, just to show her how much I don’t buy it. She moans again, and she’s melting into me before it’s like she remembers herself again and suddenly pulls away with a gasp.
“Damnit, Dalton!” She says breathlessly. Her lips are red and swollen from my kisses, and I find myself grinning at the sight.
I narrow my eyes as I move to kiss her again. But she’s shaking her head, her hand on my chest pushing me away. “No, I mean it.”
“Yeah?” Hailey’s eyes close and she loses her words, gasping as I move in again. My lips tease across her exposed neck. “What’s his name?”
“Hmm?” She pants out, her fingers curling against my chest.
“The boyfriend, darlin,” I husk into her ear, my lips brushing against the skin there. “What’s his name?”
Because I don’t buy that bullshit for one fucking second.
“Um-”
“He’s got a name, right?”
“Paul,” she finally whispers quietly, shaking. I can feel her pulse hammering in the soft skin of her neck as my fingers slide up to twist into her hair.
“You sure about that?” I murmur, sliding my lips against her earlobe.
Hailey slowly shakes her head. “I- yes,” she breathes out as my lips move across her jaw to her mouth.
“Bullshit,” I growl, and she whimpers as I claim her mouth again.
She’s melting into me again, her hands sliding up over my chest as I press her hard against the dresser behind her.
“Hailey!”
The sound of Coach’s voice from downstairs shatters the moment. Hailey jerks away from my lips like she’s just been burned, and suddenly her hands on my chest are shoving me away.
Her eyes go wide. “Dalton-”
“Hey, kiddo,” Coach calls again, his voice muffled from downstairs. “I’m heading back to campus for something at the office. You want a lift?”
Hailey’s eyes dart to mine, scared, wide, and angry all at the same time. “Get out,” she says quickly, her face suddenly darkening as she shakes her head.
“Hailey-”
“Now, Dalton!” She hisses out. Her hands shove me away from her before she ducks around me, grabs her books, and yanks open the bedroom door.
“Coming!” She yells downstairs. She pauses at the doorframe and looks back at me. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but then her lips close and she just shakes her head and steps out.
Well, fuck.
15
Hailey
“You sure about that?”
“I- yes,” I lie, my heart hammering in my chest as his eyes burn right into mine.
&nbs
p; “Bullshit.”
The entire scene plays out in my head as I look at my reflection in my dorm room mirror later the next day. Sunlight and the sounds of campus stream in through the open window, but I’m distracted by what I see.
I blush as my fingers trace across my lips, across the swollen bruises there. These wicked, tantalizing, delicious reminders of that kiss.
God, how did I let that happen?
I mean, gross, I kissed Dalton. Arrogant, sports-jock, absolute manwhore Dalton Cole.
My stepbrother Dalton Cole.
I shake my head, feeling my breath catch as the memory of it tingles through my body. His hands on my jaw and tangled in my hair, his body so hard against mine, his chest so strong under my fingers.
His lips so hot against my own.
I can barely remember the car ride back to campus with my dad. I know he was talking about football or something, but all I’m aware of is staring out the window and listening to the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.
It’s all I thought about that night, obviously. It was the memory of that kiss - that holy-shit type kiss - that had me twisting and turning under the covers in the dark. The lingering feeling of his lips against mine and his body pressed so tightly against me had the heat pooling between my legs, until I forced myself to breathe and forced myself not to act on that desire.
Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to do that again while thinking about Dalton Cole.
Actually, I’ll be damned if I let him get anywhere close to pulling a stunt like that again. Because as toe-curlingly, mind-blowingly hot as that kiss was, I will not be another Dalton Cole conquest. You don’t just kiss people like that, especially people who tell you they have a boyfriend.
…Even if that is a lie.
My reflection sours as I narrow my gaze again on the red puffiness of my lips.
Yeah, that is NEVER happening again.
* * *
I’m halfway to my first class of the day, coffee in hand, when the black Escalade comes to a screeching stop next to me. I jump, cursing as hot coffee spills onto my hand. I whirl to see the arrogant little shit himself leering at me from the driver’s side window.
“Afternoon, darlin.”
It’s that easy drawl, that charming farm-boy smile, those sharp blue eyes that make me shiver and get me warm in places I really shouldn’t be.
No way, nope. I am not falling for this again.
I’m not going to bite at the bait that a thousand other girls have.
I’m not going to be some goal for him - I won’t be a score card or a notch on his bedpost or locker door.
I glare at him once more before I turn and walk away, saying nothing. I hear him chuckle behind me as he turns off the engine, and a shiver jolts through me when I feel his hand on my bare arm.
I take a deep breath and turn, making sure my scowl is solid before I do. “You can’t park there, you know,” I nod past him at his Escalade, parked right in the bus-lane out front of the bursar’s office.
“Sure I can,” he says with an easy grin.
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess, because you’re Dalton Cole?”
He laughs, “See? You’re getting it!”
I sigh, “I need to get to class. What do you want, Dalton?”
He grins, that cocky look of his dancing across my eyes. “I just felt like seeing how you were doing today.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he cocks a brow at me.
I frown, not buying it for a minute. “Why?”
“Well, you know, after the kiss of your life last night…”
I roll my eyes as he trails off and grins at me. “Uh, dream on.”
He smirks. “Oh, you’ve been kissed better than that, huh?”
No, not ever. Not even close by a million miles.
“Yep,” I say flippantly.
“By Paul?” Dalton’s eyes sparkle as he grins wickedly at me.
I swallow thickly. “Yes, by Paul,” I say testily, scowling at him. “And he’s going to be furious when he hears about what you pulled.”
Dalton laughs. “Sounds absolutely terrifying. Will it be pistols at high noon?”
God, he sees right through this ridiculous fake boyfriend facade. The look on his face says he doesn’t buy my terrible excuse of a lie for one single second, and I’m just embarrassing myself by continuing it.
So I walk away.
Dalton’s still chuckling to himself as I roll my eyes and storm away into the science building for my next class.
“Aww c’mon, darlin. Don’t walk away mad.”
I groan at the sound of his voice following me into the building, and I dodge him by ducking into the side stairway.
Terrible idea.
“Hang on.”
I gasp as his hand grabs my arm again, pulling me back and whirling me around until I’m face to face with him - alone in the stairwell, my pulse racing.
“So, we’re just going to conveniently forget that little detail about you kissing me back, huh?” He arches a brow at me and I swallow the lump that forms in my throat.
“That was…temporary insanity.”
He grins. “Oh, is that what that was?”
“Yep.”
“You know what I think?”
I suck in a breath of air and pull my bottom lip between my teeth, my eyes darting across his. “What?”
I gasp as he suddenly moves against me, pressing me back against the wall of the stairwell and making my pulse jump.
“I think you liked kissin’ me.”
I bite my lip, feeling the same warmth as the night before go rushing through my veins like adrenaline. I quickly shake my head. “I would never like kissing someone as crude and gross and dirty as you.”
His eyes flash as he grins and leans closer, his lips so close to mine. I can feel my head spin with the same breath-taking quickness of last night, as if I was about to fall from a ledge without anything there to stop me.
“See, that’s just it, darlin,” he husks out, his breath hot across my lips. I suck in a shaky breath.
“I think you like how dirty it is kissin’ me.”
I shake my head, my eyes never leaving his as I feel the blood pounding in my ears. “You’re out of your damn mind-”
“I think you like feeling so bad with me.”
God I want him to kiss me.
It’s a terrible, mortifying thought, and one that comes completely unbidden to the front of my mind. And I want to squash it away, and bury it deep. Last night was just what I said it was - temporary insanity. It was proximity to distraction, and wicked temptation, because that’s what he is.
Dalton Cole - temptation and distraction personified.
And temptations and distractions are the very last thing I need. I have one semester - one semester of digging my heels in, ducking my head down, and making sure I ace the hell out of this school so that I can move to Columbia in the spring. And then I’ll leave Georgia, and football, and stupid Dalton Cole and his stupidly hot kisses behind.
Kisses like the one we are millimeters away from repeating.
I shiver as I feel his lips all but graze mine, his eyes glinting like cold steel as he leans in close, his hands on either side of the wall by my head. I can feel the heat from his body, and the dull throb of something big inside his pants against my leg that makes me want to roll my hips against him.
But I don’t.
“Dalton, people could see us here,” I whisper out shakily, my eyes darting across his as my heart threatens to jump into my throat.
“Well maybe we should go behind closed doors then,” he says, his eyes flashing as he grins wickedly at me. “Your room’s not far is it?”
My breath catches at his words - at the crude, wicked suggestion. I quickly shake my head. “It’s not, but I’m going there alone.”
“Thought you had class.”
Damn him, tripping me up like this.
“After class.”
Dalton grins, sti
ll so close that I can feel the warmth of his muscled, coiled body ready to pounce on me. “You know, you are really not taking advantage of college life and having no roommate.”
“I’m enjoying it just fine,” I say, suddenly feeling indignant.
“Maybe you should get Paul down here, I mean, how long’s it been?”
“Since?”
“Since you got laid, darlin,” he says with a wicked grin, a grin that only widens as I feel my face go bright red.
“It’s none of your business when I- when that happened.”
He grins again, those perfect white teeth flashing behind his perfect lips set in that perfectly chiseled jaw. “But see, I really want it to be my business.”
I think of that one and only time a month before graduation when I just decided to get it over with.
Does forty-five seconds of awkwardness even COUNT as ‘getting laid’?
“Not long at all,” I say with my most casual shrug, my eyes darting away from his smirking ones.
“I’m sure.”
I wrinkle my brow at him. “Not all of us need to have sex with skanks three times a day, Dalton.”
He laughs, “And who says I’m banging ‘skanks’ three times a day? I mean, I need to eat, and sleep, and occasionally play some football, you know.”
I arch my brow at him curiously. “So, you’re not-”
“Of course not.”
I bite my lip, hating how weirdly elated I feel hearing it.
“I really only have time for skanks twice a day.”
I roll my eyes as he chuckles. “I’m late for class, I have to go.”
I push my way past him out of the stairway before he can say anything else. And then I’m ducking out of the building and storming away before I embarrass myself any further.
* * *
I skip class, for the first time literally ever in my academic career.
Instead, I find myself back in my room, breathless and dizzy from my exchange with Dalton.
I glance up to see my reflection in the mirror - the pink blush to my cheeks, the swollen redness still lingering around my lips, the visible twitch of my pulse in the soft skin of my neck.
Damn him.
Because sitting here feeling my heart race and the raw heat pooling between my legs, I know he’s right. And I absolutely hate that he is, but he is.
Jock: A Secret Baby Sports Romance Page 35