Everyone who works within the New York Warriors organization knows that star player August Fletcher refuses to talk to most people...and especially team reporters. All except Quinn Castle, that is.
Quinn doesn't know why the broody football player...
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"YOU HAVEN'T EATEN anything today."
Not a question, just a statement. August led me by the hand into the boat's cabin, pausing to shut the door behind me as though he was worried I would disappear out of it.
I didn't have any grand ideas of escaping. Even if I hadn't already missed the bus that would take me to the airport, I wouldn't be able to leave. It was too hard when August's hand was in mine, when he was so close, and it felt so good.
God, I was so screwed. What kind of spell had this man cast over me?
I cleared my throat. "I didn't really have time to eat."
"No, you didn't," August grunted. "You were too busy running away from me."
"I wasn't running away from you," I corrected.
August pinned me with a glare as he pulled me into the kitchen. He tucked me in against the countertop before opening the fridge and surveying the contents.
"I wasn't," I repeated. I needed him to understand that.
Sighing, August started grabbing ingredients from the refrigerator and throwing them on the counter. "I'm going to make you a sandwich, and you're going to tell me exactly why you were running, then."
"You don't have to do that," I argued weakly, despite the grumble in my stomach.
He paused his movements, swiveling to stare at me knowingly. "Yes, I do. Do I have to remind you?"
My brows furrowed. "Remind me what?"
With a slow step, August trapped me against the countertop. His hard body pressed into mine in a way that made me swallow a groan. He'd pressed up against me like this last night, too. In the shower, as the water pelted down around us. Right before he—
"Focus, baby." His husky voice sent shivers through my body, but it focused my attention on his face like he'd wanted. His lips were curved; he knew exactly what I was thinking about.
"I'm focusing," I said, except my voice came out hoarse, betraying me. "What are you reminding me of?"
August leaned down, skimming his lips along my jawline until he reached my ear. I could hear his rough breaths. I wondered if he could hear my racing heart.
"That you're mine, Quinn," he breathed, his hot breath making me shudder as that familiar desire reignited inside me. "You're still here. Barely, but you are. And as long as you're here, you're mine. And I take care of what's mine."
God, I really didn't deserve this man. Here he was, frustrated beyond belief with me, but he hadn't given up. For some reason, he still wanted me. Still wanted me to be his. And he was still insisting on making me a sandwich because he knew I was hungry.
"We're gonna talk, Castle," he added, pressing a chaste kiss to the hollow below my ear. His voice dropped even lower. "But then I have plans for you. And I can't have you passing out on me."
