The Relationship Pact: Kings of Football by Locke Adriana

Author:Locke, Adriana
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Umbrella Publishing Inc.
Published: 2020-12-17T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Larissa

Oh, my God.

Hollis locks our hands together and, without hesitation, makes his way to the front of the restaurant. We weave in and out of bodies, around circles of people talking about the stock market, and dodge men in bow ties carrying plates of hors d’oeuvres.

None of the people we pass know what we’re doing or why we’re leaving the event like we’re on a mission.

Something about the secret—that only Hollis and I know what we’re up to—makes my blood pound even harder through my veins.

“Excuse us,” I say as a waiter nearly blindsides us. There was no way he anticipated two people darting by him, and I feel sorry he had to rebalance the baked brie on his tray.

But my sympathy only lasts for a moment. Before I know it, we exit the restaurant perched at the top of the swanky Jamison Hotel that Jack’s company rented out for the night.

I come to a halt behind Hollis, almost stumbling on my heels like a little girl wearing them for the first time.

A double-elevator bay sits to our right. Two large doors are closed to our left. Straight ahead is a balcony that overlooks the Savannah River.

Hollis looks around before tugging me behind him until we stop again—this time beneath a brightly colored painting of fruit.

A slight breath escapes my lips as he guides me in front of him. I land against his hard chest, and he locks his hands against the small of my back.

“Still feeling this?” he asks as he studies me intently.

“Yes.”

No other words are needed.

The corner of his mouth upturns as he drags a finger down the side of my face. A flurry of goose bumps breaks out across my skin.

I reach up and rest my arms against his shoulders, letting my fingers play in the silky strands of his hair. He leans his head against the crook of my elbow.

“Do you want to be fucked, Miss Mason?”

Something about the way he poses the question—and lingers on the one particular word—strikes a match inside me.

I return his playful grin. “I thought that’s where you were taking me.”

“I was. I am. I just want to be sure.”

The truth is, I am sure. I want him. I want him so freaking bad, and I’m positive he wants me too.

The beauty of it—the way that I tell myself that it’s okay to give in and go for it—is that he’s safe. We are on the same page about what we are, and that’s a means to an end.

Unlike the men before him, this won’t end badly. There’s nothing to end. And that is beautiful.

I tear my gaze from his and look around the elevator landing. There’s nowhere for us to go. We could go out onto the balcony, but the odds someone would interrupt us is near one-hundred-percent. A bathroom is just gross. A room is too expensive and completely overkill for a quickie.

“I’m sure,” I say. “But I don’t know where we could pull that off.”

He looks at something behind me, and a twinkle lights up his eyes.

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