Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Dawson
I feel all eyes on me.
I’m pretty sure even the custodian who was working on the bleachers saw what happened.
Their stares have my skin crawling and my blood burning in my veins.
They saw that girl, a girl I had no clue existed, put me in my place.
A fucking stunner of a girl.
Damn glad I’m wearing a girdle to hide the fact that I’m harder than a stack of frozen pucks.
She left me with a showstopping grin that she has to know ties guys like me in knots.
A grin I feel like I know from somewhere.
But surely I’d remember meeting her.
What is this feeling? Why do I have the need to chase her? I don’t chase women. They chase me, beg me to give them my attention, and then I move on.
But not her.
This is odd. My need to go after her has to be because she wasn’t impressed with me like I was with her. I need to ignore this, her, and move on. I’ve got things to do—careers to pick and lives to change.
Yet…
I hold up one finger when my dad scoffs. “Not a word.”
Then I look at Louis. “Throw me my guards.”
My brother’s eyes are so wide it’s comical as he reaches for my teal skate guards before tossing them to me. I catch them, putting them on my skates before stalking after her. When my parents start to protest, I throw up a hand. “Give me ten.”
My dad grumbles something, but I have one thing on my mind.
Ambrosia fucking Mercer.
I find her bracing herself on the table in one of the meeting rooms. Her shoulders are rising and falling with each hard intake of breath.
Her face and neck are beet red, and I love the way her lips are pursed as she breathes in and out through her nose.
From where I stand, I can take in the luscious curve of her thick ass, her wide hips, and her fucking sexy thighs.
She’s got the kind of curves that make a man want to go 100 miles per hour along them just to feel the rush.
Me. I’m that man.
And if I go off a cliff, I’ll go a happy man.
This has to be lust and the need to ease my stung ego. She didn’t even give me the time of day, then when she did, she laughed in my face.
Now I want her choking on my cock after she suffocates me with her thighs.
Yup, lust.
But I take a step toward her. I lick my bottom lip as a smirk pulls at the side of my mouth. “Did you really flick my nose?”
Ambrosia’s head whips up, her wide eyes meeting mine straight on.
I’ll give it to her; she’s got a pair of balls on her.
Her shoulders push back, the shirt straining against her ample breasts, as she schools her features.
Her whiskey-colored eyes flare with defiance before she crosses her arms below her great set of tits.
The movement only brings my gaze to where her cleavage is begging to be let out of that shirt of hers.
I want to nuzzle my face between them. Pull her nipples between my teeth and suck her until she’s screaming my name.
“Eyes up here, Sinclair.”
My grin grows, but I don’t apologize. “Fantastic view.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re disgusting.”
“I am only admiring a gorgeous woman. Do you not check me out?”
Her pause tells me she does, but she says, “Absolutely not.”
Fuck, she’s cute. “Sure,” I draw out sarcastically. “And why did you flick my nose?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Because you were being arrogant.”
I feel my brows rise. “By disagreeing with your theory?”
“With absolutely no skin in the game,” she throws at me. I really like that she knows sports. Huge turn-on for me. Usually, girls go for me because I’m an athlete, I’m big, and I have money. Apparently nothing about me appeals to Ms. Mercer here, though.
Or so she claims.
She throws up her hands, her nose wrinkling in the cutest little way. If she weren’t so terrifying, I’d want to cuddle her like a cat, but this one has claws that could shred me to pieces. “You don’t know the first thing about being in love, so how can you decide if it’d help your game or not?”
“Like I said, I am in control of my game.”
She gives me a bored look. “So you say.”
We both know what she’s saying, but I don’t give in. “I do because no female has been able to make me want more than anything physical.”
Until n— Oh, hell no.
I’m about to slap sense into myself just as she snorts. “How could they, when you only give them a chance to suck your cock before you’re out the door?” She laughs. “Or God forbid they don’t suck your cock right, because then you’re kicking them out.”
I eye her. “I have a feeling you know more about me than you’re letting on.”
She gives me a dry look. “All my roommates sucked you off. But Grace P., she used too much teeth, and you weren’t feeling that.”
When she snaps her white teeth at me like a vampire, I take a step back. I bring my brows in, not remembering this or who the hell Grace P. is. “When was this?”
She rolls her eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure, it does, because I don’t remember that.”
She gives me a long look, one I feel all over before she mutters, “Freshman year, around March.”
I press my lips together, trying to hold back my grimace. Quietly, I admit, “I wasn’t the best version of myself that year. I was confused and drinking a lot.”
“Yeah, you sure were drunk,” she says, and something about the way she says that has a memory coming to me.
I don’t remember much, but I remember the beanbag, the way her hair curled along her shoulders, and her whiskey eyes.
And…
I tilt my head. “She was mean to you.”
The gorgeous girl in front of me looks away, shrugging. I can see the flush along her cheeks. “It didn’t matter.”
“It did. She called you names, when you were way hotter than her.” Her gaze whips to mine, narrowing as she searches my eyes.
“And I mean that. I’m not saying that to be nice.
” I remember saying that—or something along those lines.
She presses her lips together, unsure how to take that.
Needing her to know, I say, “I don’t drink anymore. Haven’t since that year, actually.”
She nods slowly. “That’s awesome, but that doesn’t change the fact that I saw you in the act, firsthand. Have you tanned your ass?”
I snort. “Nope. Whitest ass ever, according to my teammates.”
She grins, even if she doesn’t want to. “It was whiter than the moon.”
I lick my lips. “I’m not that guy anymore.”
She gives me a dry look. “Why are you lying? Everyone knows that Dawson Sinclair gets around.”
I mean, she’s not wrong. I’m not nearly as bad as I was, but that’s because it’s getting tedious. I’m tired of the same thing.
She sucks my cock.
I might eat her out.
I leave.
There is no connection. No smiles. No touching.
Not from lack of trying on their part, but I won’t allow it.
I don’t want to get distracted, yet here I am.
I lick my lips again, my gaze challenging hers. “Are you slut-shaming me?”
Ambrosia grins in that way that has my cock thickening at the sight. “You don’t deny it?”
“Nope, and all the girls I’ve been with know the score before we even do anything.”
She claps slowly, giving me a mock look of awe. “Oh my goodness, how kind of you.”
I can’t help but grin. “Hey, I’m nothing if not respectful.”
“I’m sure the female gender is so thankful for that.”
Her bored look is sexy, and I want more.
“They are,” I tease. “Especially when my mouth is between their legs.”
The look of pure disdain makes me harder. “I knew I smelled something fishy.”
I choke on air. Then I bark out a laugh as I shake my head. “Wow, you’re something.”
She doesn’t seem the least bit concerned with me. “I don’t care what you think of me or even what you do. Your personal life is all yours, hotshot.”
I bring up my brows in confusion. “Hotshot?”
“Oh yeah,” she says, all full of herself. “I can’t call you a playboy since all the girls you’re with know the score, and you’re so respectful. So…hotshot.”
“But you wanted to call me a playboy?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “No. I wanted to call you a manwhore, but I really want your parents on my podcast, so I refrained.”
My skin breaks out in gooseflesh as my stomach swoops. What is this girl doing to me?
Damn, she’s fun.
“You don’t hold back, huh?”
“Not for a person I don’t know, don’t care to know, and who has the audacity to take shits on my theory when you have no basis for your way of thinking.”
She’s not wrong, but there is no way I am agreeing with her. “You say you don’t care to know me, but you seem pretty heated over the opinion of a hotshot you don’t care about.”
That has her eyes widening in anger. “You aren’t even on my radar.”
I grin with all teeth. “You’re on mine.”
Did I just say that? I guess so, and when her eyes narrow, I’m kicked straight in the gut with lust by the dark look in her eyes. I have never met someone as direct as her, and I’ve known her for eight minutes. It’s mind-blowing and a fucking turn-on.
“What are you doing? Why are you in here?” she demands, her eyes practically in slits as she waves her hand between us.
“I figured we can get dinner, talk this through.”
Listen, I didn’t expect to say that, but I wouldn’t have expected her to laugh.
To the point she bows over, holding her gut as tears stream down her face.
When she looks up at me, another round of laughter flies out of her as she waves her hands out in front of me, like I just told the funniest joke in the world.
She presses her hands to her hips, blowing out a long breath before she lets out the most unladylike snort I’ve ever heard.
It doesn’t even faze her; she continues to laugh.
Even though she’s laughing at me, I have never seen anyone so beautiful.
Or wanted to know someone so desperately.
So, I can fuck her…right?
Right.
Rocking back on her heels, she shakes her head. “Whoa, that was funny.”
I swallow. “I’m serious.”
She snorts. “I am too.” I track her movement as she steps toward me, her citrus smell engulfing me and making me want to lean in for a taste. I bet she’s so sweet with how spicy she is. “You honestly thought I would say yes?”
“I mean, couldn’t hurt. Get to know each other, and see where it leads?”
She laughs. “No, you don’t waste your time on connection. We both know what you want, and I’m not the one. There is no way in hell I’d ever drop to my knees, open my legs, or bend over for you, hotshot.”
Each word sends an erotic image to my head.
Ambrosia on her knees with my cock in her mouth as I hold her curls in my fist.
Her smiling around my cock.
Legs wrapping around me as I devour her mouth before devouring her pussy.
Her smiling against my lips as she moans my name.
Holding her down with my palm in the middle of her back as my other hand massages one ass cheek while I pound into her sweet flesh.
Ambrosia looking over her shoulder with a grin.
It’s a lot, all at once, and I want it badly.
But I want the smiles too.
Like the one she’s flashing me right now.
She pats my cheek, and I instantly grab her wrist. Her eyes flare with surprise as I hold her close to me.
My gaze falls to her lips, memorizing the perfect shape of the heart her top lip makes, before I look back at her eyes, wanting to drown in the whiskey color of them.
The feeling of gasping for air assaults me as I realize I don’t want to just taste her.
I want to spar with her. I want her comebacks and zingers. I want to know who she is.
Then taste her and…
Leave, yeah, leave… I always leave.
I hardly recognize my own voice when I announce, “We’ll see about that, heart-stopper.”
She takes in a sharp breath before licking those thick lips.
I watch the trail of her tongue, wanting to follow it with mine, before our gazes lock once more.
We’re both breathing hard. The room is silent but full of static tension.
I feel her pulse against my thumb, and I tighten my grip on her wrist. Before I can ask again for her to let me take her out, she whispers, “Heart-stopper?”
My lips curve up in a devilish grin. “Pretty obvious why that’d be your nickname from me. Just one look and my heart stops.”
She blinks, playfulness in her eyes as she shakes her head. “For your heart to stop at the sight of me, you’d have to actually feel the organ. We both know you only feel and think with your cock.”
This girl.
She steps away, pulling her arm from mine just as my parents enter the room. I can feel their gazes on us, but I’m so ensnared by Ambrosia, I can’t look away.
“Ten minutes are up,” my dad informs me, and I nod.
“So, no to a date?”
She scoffs. “That’s right.”
“I love a good challenge.”
She looks from my parents to me. “The challenge you need to focus on is your career.”
I chuckle. “But maybe I need a woman to help me?”
She gives me an annoyed expression. “I’m sure you have tons on your roster, but my name will never be on there.”
“Oh, but heart-stopper, you’re number one and only.” She rolls her eyes as my mom snickers, but my dad glares. And all I can do is think, who the hell am I? I don’t say things like this to girls. I don’t have to. They drop to their knees before I even ask.
But not her.
Not Ambrosia.
Unable to decipher what the hell is going on with me, I know I need space to think. “See you around, Ro.”
I head to the door just as she calls out, “It’s Ambrosia.”
I look over my shoulder, our eyes meeting. “Okay, heart-stopper.”
I can see her grinding her molars before she mutters, “Stay in your lane, hotshot.”
My grin widens as I head out the door with more pep to my step than I’ve ever experienced.
Stay in my lane, huh?
Oh, I will.
A lane that is leading right to her.