Crossing Lines

Chapter 13 - Mila

I've always loved the nights. The silence and darkness made me feel like I mattered, like I was part of something much, much bigger.

But this night felt even more magical than any I've ever sat through. Because I enjoyed myself, sitting on this empty rooftop terrace with Hayden Cross. We talked through most of the night, sharing thoughts and visions and fantasies. I've gotten to know him a little better, and the more we talked, the more I understood why he hid his identity from me. He really is nothing like the typical football-player stereotype.

He's deep, attentive, and so goddamn smart, it's actually kind of scary. I realize he was right in assuming I'd judge him if I knew who he was before I got to know him. Because he surprised me so many times, but my surprise was always based on my image of this quarterback in the field.

I lean against his broad chest as we watch the sunrise, his breath traveling down my neck as he intertwines his fingers with mine, his thumb drawing circles on the palm of my hand while I listen to his beating heart.

"Mila," he whispers, and his heart thunders suddenly, the sound making me look up at him with sleepy eyes.

As soon as those intense green eyes stare into mine, my own heart pounds in my chest, every sense in my body heightened and electric. Because that's what these eyes do to me—they wake me up, setting every nerve ending on fire with a single glance.

"Kiss me, Hayden." I surprise myself by saying the words.

I'm not forward. I'm not demanding. But these eyes have the power to remind me of something I forgot existed, and so I meet his gaze, a gaze dancing with passion and desire as his knuckles brush over my cheek, the rising sun casting his face in an almost angelic light.

"I thought you'd never ask." His breath fans against my lips when he leans closer, and then our lips collide, like two meteors on their way down to earth.

That's exactly what this kiss is—earth-shattering, mind-blowing, and intoxicating. Our lips fuse, our tongues dance, play, battle each other, all while my hands rake through his hair, trying to find anything to hold on to as he kisses the hell out of me.

A moan escapes my lips when he cups the back of my neck, pulling me toward him to diminish the distance between us, like this kiss is all we need to breathe, to survive. I pull him closer to me, as close as I can, thinking I might just break apart if his lips ever left mine.

Once again, I surprise myself when I reposition my legs to straddle him, the need to diminish the distance between us taking over. He groans when my center collides with the hard bulge in his pants, the sensation sending a wave of heat through my body. His large hands firmly cup my behind while I graze my teeth over his bottom lip, completely and utterly compelled by this man.

"Fucking hell, Lucky," he whispers against our kiss before his tongue chases mine again, punishing it in the best way possible. I'm high with passion and desire, his lips coming down on me, set on blowing my mind.

I can't stop. I feel like I would need to in order to breathe, but all I crave is this peak, this display of desire, of awareness...and suddenly, I feel seen by this handsome stranger beneath me.

To my surprise, he's the one who pulls back, leaving me with a racing heart as I try to catch my breath. His hair is just as messy as mine must look, and still, he appears like the embodiment of perfection. "Have I told you yet how unbelievably beautiful you are?"

If my cheeks weren't filled with heat from this mind-blowing kiss, they definitely would be now. Because the way these words leave his lips, his baritone voice rumbling through my body right where it connects with his, ignites every inch of my body. "You're quite the handsome man too, Cash."