“You got that right,” Jones slurs.

“Shit,” Soph whispers, and pokes me in the ribs.

She pulls the sheet over her head as Stone and Jones approach. I can’t do much to hide her long hair though, and really, as if I could hide her body … those long, slender legs …

“Ha! I thought you might be up to something,” Jones whisper-yells, and jiggles his eyebrows up and down.

“A little privacy, huh?” I say, pointing to the outline of her body.

Jones nods. “Course,” he says, and makes a shh gesture with his finger positioned against his lips.

Both boys do a dramatic tip-toe past my bed. Thankfully, the room is an L-shape, so the other beds are around the corner from mine.

Soph is still under the sheets, her head resting on my chest. I’m hard as an exhaust pipe, under there. If she so much as grazes my boxers I will, without a doubt, explode in my pants.

After a few minutes, the boys’ talking turns to snoring.

“I’d better get back to my room,” she whispers. “I don’t want April to worry.”

“Yeah,” I say in a quiet voice, but really I want to tell her to stay. I feel more comfortable in my own skin when she’s around. How will I cope when she moves out?

“One day at a time,” she says. “We’ll be back in Sydney in twenty-four hours and then you can get back to teaching this duck how to cook.”

This girl is …

I wrap my arms around her shoulders and bring her upper body flush against mine. I smooch her on the lips, and then rest my nose against hers and take in a deep breath. She slips her arm around my waist. Her warm delicate fingers glide over the skin just above the waistband of my boxers. My breath becomes heavier, and inside my head I’m fighting what to do next.

Then comes the fuck it moment.

I press my lips to hers. The slightest moan vibrates from her mouth against mine. I tease at her lips in feather-light strokes. A nip here. A slip of tongue. Bundles of nerves start to come to life. An energy, some kind of foreign feeling is taking over me.

Suds slips her tongue against mine. Her touch is that of caution, so I pull back only a little to give her space.

Her fingers dig into my flesh, and she pushes her hips into me. When she pushes her hand to my chest and shoves me onto my back, I know I’ve fucked up. She raises herself on one elbow, and hovers close enough to my face that her hot breath warms my lips.

I smooth my hands up her arms and over her collarbone, raking my fingers across the nape of her neck, tugging on her hair. She leans down, her long locks teasing at my jaw. With a calculated lick of my lower lip, I make sure she catches a glimpse of the stud.

The hesitation in her eyes has vanished. All that’s left is a hunger that I know I haven’t been imagining.

Using my grip on her for leverage, I lift my shoulders off the bed and draw her close. Our lips meet in the middle. This time, the touch of her lips against mine is more persuasive, the energy between us more potent.

The smooth strokes of our tongues, the flicker of the metal rod, and the sharp intake of breath as our chests expand against each other has me floating … transported. It’s like no other high.

I don’t kiss. Not like this. It’s intimate; it’s revealing … for both of us.

I don’t want it to end.

“Stay,” I whisper against her lips, and then probe my tongue against hers once more. I roll her onto her side and press my boxers against her, allowing her to feel what she’s doing to me. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t engage either.

I close my eyes. I know that now’s not the time or the place. I’m sharing a room with my mates, but that’s not my biggest worry. I’m not in the right headspace. I’m not free from the demons dragging me down. I’ve got some work to do, and now I’m even more determined to fight.

Suds rests her head on the pillow beside me, and directs those brilliant green eyes at me. With more self-control than I’m capable of in this moment, she presses her closed mouth to mine.

My phone dings, breaking the spell between us.

She takes in a deep breath and flattens her hand in the centre of my chest.

“I … I should go,” she whispers, and then sneezes. I hold her hand to my chest. I wanna go all alpha on her and tell her no. Tell her she can’t leave. The thing is, I won’t ever boss her when it comes to that.

“Yeah,” I grumble.

A muffled fart cries out in the distance. It sounds like a guinea pig is being strangled.

“Ewww,” she whispers against my chest. Suds lifts her head and stifles her laughter with her hand over her mouth.

There are signs coming from everywhere in this Vegas hotel room. A sneeze. My phone. A fart. If another bloke in here farts, I’ll grab the fire extinguisher and spray them like we’re having a white Christmas.

I get the message. It’s time to break up this lip party, but as I live and breathe, I want this woman’s mouth again … and not just on my lips. I want it everywhere. I want to tell her I’m not done with her, not by a long shot. I want her in my bed.

I want her in my life, not just because I need her. I see something with us, and it’s playing on my mind. I want this girl …

The problem is, does she need me?

Suds creeps out of bed and pulls her top over her swimmers. She slips the long strap of her bag over her head, so it crosses against her body, drawing my eyes to her tits.

She leans down and kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t forget …” she murmurs, her eyes sparkling.

“What?” I ask, slipping my hand into hers.

“To ask your mate Brett what happened to him.”

I shake my head as my body jerks in silent laughter. “With great pleasure,” I whisper, and reluctantly let her go. She gathers up her thongs and sunnies and lets herself out.

I wrap the sheet around me, drinking in the remnants of her sweet scent, which clings to the linen.

Why didn’t she want the guys to see her? Is it because we’re getting close? Is she embarrassed at the thought of being seen here with me?

Be fucked if I know why, but one thing I do know is that something is happening. Slowly, Suds is weaving her way into a place I thought I’d never let another woman into. I just hope I’m letting her in for the right reasons.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SOPHIE

When I get back to my room, I tiptoe inside. You could hear a pin drop in here, it’s that quiet. Thankfully the thick curtains have been closed, so you’d barely know it was morning. I gently place my things beside my bed, tug back the sheets and climb in.

“Get lucky, did we?” April says out from somewhere behind me.

“Jesus,” I curse and place my hand against my hammering heart. I roll over to find April standing in her PJs, nursing a cup of tea.

“It’s been a while.” I’ve neither confirmed nor denied. This better not bite me on the arse later. I can’t tell her that Rocco had a crisis. He was ready to jump off the wagon. I’m just glad I was able to be there for him, to help him through it.

“It’ll be hard to go home,” I say, changing the subject before there are more questions.

“Yeah, but it’ll be good to get home and get everything sorted.”

“I can’t believe that in only five more weeks you’ll be a married woman.”

“I can’t believe it either.”

“Be prepared for the baby questions at the wedding. People are nosey. They’re never satisfied. They always want to know what the next thing is.”

“I’m all for the practising, but I think we’re gonna wait at least six months before we get serious. Once we’ve gotten through the supercross season, then we can see where we’re at.”

I get out of bed and kiss her on the cheek, making a loud ‘mwah’ noise. “I couldn’t be happier for you, babe.”

“Thanks, Soph.” She gives me a smile, but then it slowly fades.