All Played Out (Rusk University #3)(14)

But for the moment I’m too busy being undone by the thorough exploration of her tongue in my mouth. She tastes sweet, like the drink I’d given her earlier, and her movements are confident. In control.

Oh no. My girl might be a genius, but she could not learn that from books. But what I really want to see is Nell out of control. I want to know what it’s like to have this proud, intelligent miracle of a girl yield under my hands.

I slip a hand up from her waist, coasting over the outside of her breast and up to her neck. She has to drop her arm from my shoulder to make room for me, but I’ve got a tight hold on her waist so she won’t fall. I spread my palm over the side of her neck, reaching up to grip her jaw and chin with my fingers and thumb.

And then it’s my turn. I slant her head back, switching the angle of our kiss, and then I devour that pretty mouth that’s been plaguing me all night. Her fingernails tighten against my neck, urging me on, and I search her mouth furiously, as if I might find the origin of her sweet taste that drives me crazy.

I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, and she whimpers. I glory in that sound, determined to coax even more from her.

With her still pressed tight against me, I step forward, toward the wall a few feet behind her. The water flows and shifts around us, and she breaks our kiss to moan.

I can’t resist. I ask, “What, sweetheart? Why’d you make that sound?”

I’m pleased to find she can still blush, even when we’re naked and molded against each other. I take another step and her eyes flutter closed.

“It’s . . .”—she shakes her head, struggling for the words—“the water.”

I try not to frown. “The water?”

“It’s cold, and you’re hot, and the contrast . . . oh—” She breaks off as I press her back against the side of the pool.

“You like the contrast, do you?” She nods, her eyes hazy and her lips swollen.

With one hand still on her neck, I reach the other up to coax her to release her grip on me. She does, letting her arm drop so that both of them hang at her sides in the water. Then slowly, I peel my chest back from hers. Water slides in between us, and just like I’d hoped, she gasps at the change. Now that there’s space between us, I lift my hand to her chest, finding one pebbled nipple and worrying it between my fingers. She throws her head back and groans, louder than any other sounds she’s made before, and I want her to do it again. I cup her in my hand, and Christ, her rack is amazing. Full and heavy with slick, soft skin, and I’ve got to taste her. I can’t wait.

“Put your legs around my waist,” I tell her.

She hesitates, pulling her head up to meet my gaze, and her nerves have returned. Shit. That was the last thing I wanted.

This would be easier with her legs around me, so I could lift her up and out of the water, but if that’s going to make her start thinking, make her end this . . . I sure as hell don’t have to do it the easy way. I bend, lowering my head and lifting her breast so that her nipple is right at the water’s surface. I pull it into my mouth, sucking at the hard tip, and I feel her go completely slack in my arms.

The taste of chlorine only lasts for a few seconds, and then it’s just her skin, salty and a little sweet. Her hands grip the back of my head, scrambling for purchase in my short hair. When her left leg wraps around my thigh, I reach down for the other and help her lock them around me. The move pulls her a little farther out of the water, and when I lean into her and the wall, my cock presses tight against the slick heat of her.

Damn. Damn.

Her fingers clutch at my head, nails scraping against my scalp in a way that sets me on fucking fire. I switch to the other breast, molding it in my hand while my mouth drops to her neck. I alternate pressing my tongue and my teeth against her skin, and when I hit a particularly sensitive spot, she bucks against me and my erection slides deliciously against her. And I’m so close to where I want to be, and I’m aching for her.

“Torres,” she gasps.

I stick with where I’m at, playing my tongue over that spot, dying for her to rock her hips against mine again. Dying to be inside her. I pause to say, “Not my name.”

“M-Mateo,” she says, trembling as I pull at her taut nipple, and I reward her with a hard suck. She bucks against me again, and I have to pause because just that was enough to bring me close to the edge. The closer I get her to losing control, the closer I get myself.

She mumbles, “This is . . . that is to say . . . I . . .”

After a few more sentences that go nowhere, I slow my assault on her neck and lift my head to look at her.

And God, she’s fucking glorious. The ends of her hair are damp from sloshing water and sticking to her neck. And her skin . . . it’s the palest shade of brown and there are no lines, no flaws, just miles of smooth perfection that I can’t wait to taste. Her eyes are hooded, and I can see her battle to keep them open, especially when I slide a hand down her ass to pull her tighter against me. She presses her lips together, holding in a sound that I’m desperate to hear.

Slamming my lips down on hers, I nip at her mouth before driving my tongue inside once and then again. I pull back just enough to say, “No more holding your breath. I want to hear you. I want to hear what I do to you. Got that?”

She doesn’t answer, and I rock against her again, making sure the head of my cock passes over her clit. Her lips form a circle, and she makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and an “oh.”

“Like that,” I tell her. “I need to hear you so I know that you feel just as good as I do. ’Cause Jesus, Nell, you’re fucking perfect. You taste perfect. You feel perfect. I’m dying to be inside you.”

“Inside . . .”

“I bet you’re tight, so tight. Perfect there, too.” Damn. I could come just thinking about it.

“Torres,” she says again, and I fight the urge to spank her ass in response.

“Told you, sweetheart, that’s not my name. You know what I want to hear. Let me hear it.”

“Mateo, I—”

“That’s the one.”

I kiss her again, drinking the sweetness from her lips and rocking our hips together again. She tears her mouth away, gasping, and says, “Mateo, we need to stop.”

No. Shit. That’s the last thing I want to do. I want to hold her like this for hours, until we can’t stay in the water a moment longer. By then the party should be over, and I can sneak her back to the house and into my room. Then I’ll lay her out on my bed, where I can look my fill and taste all the places that I can’t reach right now. But she says my name again, and with every second that I’m not kissing her, the image of her in my bed starts to fade.

“Okay,” I say, swallowing hard, trying to get myself under control. “Okay.”

I slide my hand up from her ass to the small of her back. That should be safer territory, but every part of her makes me hot. Her legs drop from around my hips, and I’m already mourning the loss of her around me. She slides down until her feet touch the pool floor again.

“I’m sorry,” she says, still not looking at me.

I take her chin and turn her head toward me. I lean down and kiss her just once. Any more and I’ll press her back against the wall again and try to change her mind. “No need to be sorry, girl genius. After all, your list only said kiss. I think we marked that one out a couple dozen times.”

And then I step away from her because my hard-on sure as hell isn’t going to go away while I’m pressed up against her. I float back a few feet in the water and nod my chin toward her clothes. “Why don’t you go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll take you back to the party.”

Then I turn my back to her even though all I want to do is see those luscious curves that I’ve just had my hands all over. And while she dresses I put my head down and do a few laps across the pool, willing myself to focus on swimming instead of the release that won’t be coming anytime soon.





Chapter 11


Nell’s To-Do List

• Normal College Thing #1: Hook up with a jock

• Learn some freaking self-control, woman.





For a few moments I just stand there naked and dripping beside my clothes. I should be frantically dressing or finding some way to blot the water off my body. Instead I’m watching Mateo’s sleek naked body cut through the water in the moonlight. Torres, I correct. He needs to stay Torres.

I have never been struck dumb by the naked male form. All the statues in museums of sculpted muscles and curves never really seemed that art-worthy to me. My interest in the body has always been clinical, not aesthetic.

Now I realize that was because I’d never seen it in person. Never seen the powerful way muscles move in action. It goes so far beyond medical. I shake my head before I can start waxing poetic about Torres’s magical muscles. God, it’s like that guy makes me forget I have a brain.

If he hadn’t started talking, there’s no telling what I would have let him do. What if he’d just . . . I don’t know . . . stuck it in, no warning or whatever. Like . . . SURPRISE! Here’s a penis. I picture the scene now. Losing my virginity by sneak attack in the pool, and the vision in my head goes from painful to awkward then back to painful. I can’t even think about the fact that he didn’t have a condom with him in the pool, and I doubt there are pockets in his loincloth.