We laugh quietly, but it turns into sighs. I’m not sure if it’s the adrenaline, Jace’s charisma, the arousal he kindled at half court or all of the above, but I’m suddenly ravenous for the taste of him. My pulse is pounding a thousand miles an hour and I want his mouth on mine. Now now now. I twist around in his arms and find his lips with mine, slinging my thighs high around his waist and clinging, seeking his tongue eagerly and finding it. Finding it because he gives it to me just as hungrily, plowing his fingers into my hair, raking and slanting his mouth over mine, our groans filling the air between us.
His kneading hands are rough and punishing on my backside, separating my cheeks, lifting them. “Are you telling me it’s time to start f*****g, little girl?”
“Yes,” I say, my head spin
