Scoring With Him (Men of Summer, #1)

by Lauren Blakely

The object of my crush stands inches away, with deep brown eyes that travel over me and a body I want to feel under me, on top of me, next to me. I am so fucked.

“Some things are hard to look away from,” I say. “I’ll say,” he murmurs. He stares shamelessly. Hungrily. Making this my best morning workout in ages—and also my hardest.

“I’m already jealous of the possibility of you fucking someone else,” he says, a plain admission that scorches me. Declan’s jealousy sets me on fire. Every square inch of me burns for him. “You are?” “I am.” His voice is smoke in the desert night. “And what you said this morning?” he prompts, like I didn’t remember it perfectly. “Yeah?” I ask, letting him lead this conversation wherever he’s taking it. “Grant,” he says, his tone shifting, full of vulnerability and heat. “It’s driving me absolutely crazy.”

“You and me fucking would be the worst idea ever. And yet I can’t get it out of my head.”

“Fuck it.” I inch closer, lick my lips. “Kiss me, rookie.” He smiles. “Hell, yes.”

“Am I turned off? I am not. Am I freaked out? I am not. Am I curious about you and your choices? You bet I am.”

“I want to see you on your knees taking my dick between those lips. Want to see you crawling up on the

bed and settling between my thighs to swallow my cock,”

And I am going to make you feel so fucking good. I’m going to do things to you that blow your mind. I’m going to make your toes curl, your knees weak, and your dick weep with pleasure.”

I just like you so much I don’t want to screw up. You fascinate me and I can’t fucking believe you’re into me too. I can’t believe you’re the first guy I’m going to sleep with, and that makes me feel like I won a World Series. Which is a crazy thing to think, but there it is.

Here we go, doing it again, curling up together, his arm draped around me. Only this time it feels completely intentional. From both of us.

I like getting to know you. So much more than I should,” I say, putting that much on the line, telling him what’s fast becoming the truth of my heart, even though I won’t be able to have what I want so badly. Him.

Since this is just sex. Just sex. Only, that’s a lie, and I know it. This isn’t just sex. At least not for me. It’s so much more. And I kiss him that way, so he knows in my touch what’s happening in my heart. I want him to feel consumed in every way, like I do.

As I ride him, I get to know his body, get to know what makes him tick. The answer? Me. I wind him up. I drive him crazy. That is all I want. For him to feel the same way I do.

Not just any man though. The man I’m pretty sure I’ve inconveniently, stupidly fallen in love with.

“You’re out of this world,” I say, running a finger down his chest. “You’re a moonshot. You’re a grand slam over the fences. That’s you, rookie. You’re my walk-off home run.”

there is no man I want more than you. No one I want to fuck so thoroughly. No one who turns me on like you.”

My chest tightens with need. With desire. But none of it is sexual. All of it is real.

I am besotted with Grant Blackwood.

Grant Blackwood is my undoing because he gets me. He understands me. He gives more of himself to me than anyone ever has. I want him beyond these walls, beyond this room, beyond tonight.

“I am so crazy for you, Grant. I don’t know what happened in the last few days, but that’s how I feel. Out-of-my-mind

my-mind crazy. I know this has to end, but I don’t want it to end. I want you to be mine,”

“All mine. Only mine.”

“I’m falling so fucking hard for you,” he says, and that’s it. I’m just done. I’m too far gone. I grab him, kiss him, and give him everything I can. For now. Because that’s all we have.

“I waited years for a guy like you. I can wait all season for you,” he says, his voice stitched with a vulnerability that cracks my heart wide open. “I’ll wait for you, rookie.”

“I’m falling for you. And I want to fuck and fall tonight.”

“Fucking and falling sounds perfect.”