Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“We’re not,” I correct him, my eyes going from Kaleb to Brayden.
When I give him a what the fuck look, he glares my way before he returns his attention back to the bartender. “It’s none of your business what we are.”
Once the bartender walks away, Brayden says, “So, what? You’re gay now?”
I swing my head his way. “The fuck?”
“You’re clearly checking out the bartender, and he, you. Is that what you want?” His brown eyes are blazing with unreadable emotion and his jaw clenches. “To fuck him?”
His label and accusation rubs me the wrong way.
“I kissed you,” I taunt. “And the last time I checked, you pushed me away. Now you’re trying to cockblock me?”
Brayden blinks rapidly. “So you are… gay?”
“I hooked up with a guy last weekend.” I shrug, playing nonchalant while trying to rile up Brayden.
It fucking works too because he glowers at me.
“Who?” he barks.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” I throw a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and stand. “Have a good night.”
I enter the empty elevator and press the number of my floor. The doors are shutting when they suddenly pop back open, and in walks Brayden.
“This conversation isn’t over,” he growls.
I smirk on the outside, but on the inside, my heart is smacking against my ribcage, making it hard to breathe. What does he mean, it isn’t over? Does he want to talk now? Later?
We stand in the elevator in silence, but the tension in the small area is damn near suffocating. I consider asking him what he means several times, but I can’t find it in me to get the words out. Instead I stare at the screen as the numbers go higher. Neither of us says a word, but it’s the loudest damn silence I’ve ever heard.
My questions are answered when we step out of the elevator and, instead of Brayden going into his room, he follows me into mine. Fuck, this is a bad idea. Me and him alone in my room… This last week we’ve finally settled into a comfortable coach and player relationship. I might even say we’re making progress toward getting our friendship back. If we cross over that invisible, thin line, I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to come back from it. But I can’t find it in me to tell Brayden to leave. To insist we finish this conversation somewhere in public, where I can’t fuck anything up.
“What is it you—” Before I can finish my sentence, Brayden is on me, his mouth crashing against mine. Tasting me. Coaxing my tongue to duel with his. Unlike our previous kisses, when only one of us has been on board, this time, we’re both giving as good as we’re taking. My tongue strokes his as I devour him.
All too quickly, though, he breaks the kiss.
“That’s how our first kiss should’ve been,” he murmurs with a shake of his head. Our bodies are so close, I can feel his hard dick against my own, telling me he’s turned the fuck on. Just like I am. My eyes land on his mouth, glistening from our kiss. I want to lick his lips to get another taste of him.
“I was young and didn’t know what was happening.” I was scared shitless about what us kissing would mean for us. “I fucked up.”
Brayden takes a step backward, and all I want to do is pull him back to me.
“You ended our friendship instead of talking to me,” he says, his features saturated in hurt as he stares at me. “I fucking needed you, loved you, and you left me like I didn’t mean shit to you.” His voice cracks on the last word, breaking my heart in the process.
“I know, and I wish I could go back and change the choices I made, but I can’t. But I can tell you that I’ve thought about you over the years, missed you every second of every damn day.” I beg him with my eyes and words to hear me, believe me, forgive me. “And when we kissed… well, when I kissed you, I felt that shit to my core. I wanted you like I’ve never wanted anyone else in my life.”
“And you show me that by letting me know you dicked someone else last weekend.”
He takes another step back, his face contorted in pain, but this time I refuse to let him distance himself any farther.
I grab the hem of his shirt and pull him back to me, until our faces are close… too close. I can smell the beer lingering on his breath. The same beer I was just tasting on his tongue a few moments ago. “And I thought about you the entire time.”
His eyes go wide in shock and then his mouth is back on mine, pushing me against the wall. His lips curl around mine, stroking, teasing, caressing. He lifts my shirt and slides his palms over my abs. His skin is hot and I crave his warmth. I should stop this, but he tastes too good, feels too good, and I’ve fantasized too often about being with him.