“Besides,” Brody adds as he lies down beside me and sweeps out his arm, encompassing all of it. “How do you explain that?”

He’s right. You can’t. “It’s beautiful.”

“Is this what the stars are like for you back home?”

“No. Back home it’s different.”

“Different how?”

Homesickness swamps me. As beautiful as Texas is, it’s not Australia. Somehow the stars are always brighter where you belong. “Because there’s no place like home.”

“You’re wrong.”

I turn my head and stare at Brody. He’s not looking at me. His head is tilted toward the sky, eyes riveted on the beauty above him. My gaze follows the line of his profile. From the curl of his hair to the perfect line of his nose, down to the mouth I want kissing me right this very instant.

“Home’s not a place where you live. It’s a feeling.” His hand nudges my own. An invitation. I twine my fingers with his and he squeezes them lightly. “Whether it’s where you are, like the football field, or who you’re with.” Brody turns his head, looking at me when he says that. It’s comforting because it unites us somehow, like it’s slowly becoming us against the world. “You can be anywhere, Jordan. Home will follow you if you follow your heart.”

My breath hitches from the beautiful simplicity of his words. Before I can talk myself out of it, I roll over and straddle him. My knees hug his hips, and he stares up at me from my seated position. My pulse pounds a heavy beat in the silence. Thump, thump, thump. It’s so loud in my ears I’m sure he can hear it.

“Show me,” I breathe. A gleam lights his dark eyes, and he sucks his lower lip inside his mouth. He knows what I’m asking, but I spell it out anyway. “Show me one of those wicked things.”

In a move that steals the air from my lungs, he takes both my hands and pulls me down against the broad width of his chest. I’m rolled over and underneath him before I can blink. The squirm in my hips is instinctive, the ache between my thighs relentless.

“Careful what you ask for,” Brody says roughly, every exquisite inch of his body pressing down on mine.

“Why?”

His lips curve. “Because when I give it to you, it won’t be enough.”

My fingers trail down the side of his face, grazing the firm jaw, cupping his cheek in my palm. Foreboding swamps me. I’m falling hard into uncharted territory, and all I see is a broken mess at the end. How is this going to end well for either of us?

“You’re an arrogant man, Brody Madden,” I whisper.

He brings his face to mine, so close I see the brilliant gold in his eyes, like flecks of light in the dark. “And you, Jordan Elliott, will be the woman who brings me to my knees,” he whispers against my lips.

“Show me,” I beg on a shaky breath.

Brody’s lashes lower and he presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. I tilt my chin upwards, inviting more. Rather than take my lips like I ache for him to do, he shifts sideways and begins nipping at my jaw. His breath is a rasp when he reaches my earlobe, taking it between his teeth. A sharp pinch from his bite forces a whimper from my throat.

“More?” he asks, drawing back to look at me.

“Is that even a real question?”

Brody chuckles as I slide my hand up and around his nape, dragging his mouth down to mine. He groans and kisses me gently, once, and then twice.

“Brody,” I whisper, and he kisses me again, forcing my mouth open hard like he can’t hold himself in check anymore. My hair is loose and he fists chunks of it in both hands while his tongue rubs against mine, hot and aggressive. It’s almost too much, and when I jerk away I’m left gasping.

Brody doesn’t pause. He ducks his head to my neck, his tongue tasting its way down. He finds my pulse point and sucks. It’s fierce and my back arches involuntarily. His mouth shifts further down, moving on before he leaves a mark.

Sitting up, he takes the neckline of my dress in both hands. Five dainty buttons hold it together. A single wrench will rip the flimsy fabric in two. He pauses and looks at me, inhaling raggedly. “Jordan … I don’t want to ruin it.”

My brow furrows. I glance to the hands poised on my dress. They’re tense, veins straining under his skin. My head is lost in a fog when my gaze returns to his face. “Ruin my dress?”

Brody groans, a deep sound of regret and frustration. “Us.”

“You don’t want to ruin us?”

He draws his hands away from the neckline of my dress. “No.”

“How would you do that?”

“I don’t know. I just get this feeling I’m going to.” He shifts away, moving off me and rolling to his back. I turn my head. Brody’s gaze is back on the stars. I watch his throat work as he swallows, the pulse in his neck pounding visibly. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be the best. Whatever it takes. I’ll do anything. That’s how I’ll ruin us, Jordan. How can something so sweet survive a sentiment so dark?”

I roll to my side, holding my head in my hand. Cupping his face with the other, I nudge gently until he’s looking at me. “I won’t let you.”

Brody’s voice is urgent, his eyes fierce. “Promise me.”

I can’t shake the apprehension. It’s set in my bones and when I speak it feels like a lie. “I promise.”

Brody

“One more,” Jordan commands.

“Nooooo!” The word comes out sounding close to a girlish wail, but I don’t care. My brain hurts. It’s so full of ethical case law it’s going to explode if I squeeze any more in.

I roll over on her bed and bury my head beneath her pillow. It’s warm and soft and deliciously fragrant. My whole body shudders and I grit my teeth. I’m denying it what it wants most of all. What the fuck is wrong with me? Right now, I’ll gladly ruin everything for one whole night of sinking my cock inside her. After our date we decided to take things slow, but now it’s killing me.

“It fucking sucks,” I mumble to myself, my breath coming in pants because my air is swiftly running out. Maybe I’ll pass out and she’ll take pity on me.

“What did you say?”

I tilt my head slightly so Jordan can hear me from under her pillow. “I said all work and no play makes Brody a dull boy.”

“We’ve barely started!” I shrink from her exasperated tone. My girl is a cruel and unforgiving dragon. On the field it’s a sight to behold. Majestic and fierce. Here, in the study arena, it’s a harrowing and torturous experience. All hellfire and brimstone. My head is buried, yet she keeps talking. “You know if you don’t go over this particular case, it’ll be the one that ends up in the midterm.”

Her warning is unfair, as if I’m sealing my own downfall simply by taking a well-deserved break.

“When we’ve finished with that,” she continues, “we need to focus on your other subjects. I think we’ve covered a lot of ground on those, but—”

“Nooooo!” I wail from beneath the pillow. I lift it from my face and squint one eye open. Jordan’s seated in her chair by the desk facing me. A heavy text rests on her lap and her arms are folded. She’s silent now, her blue eyes narrowed in a cold-hearted glare. It’s one that makes me want to apologize even when I’ve done nothing wrong. “You should teach fifth grade.”

Nostrils flare. “Hmmph.”

Distracting Jordan is my best shot. “Offer me an incentive and I’ll do it.”

She fights it, but I see a small twitch in her lips. “You mean like a dog?”

“Sure.” I reposition her pillow behind my head, happier now because it’s already working. “Like a dog. I do something you ask me to do, you reward me.”

Jordan’s brow lowers in a deliberating expression. Her mind is ticking over while she works out what she’s going to do with me. Eager to help her along, I drop my hand to the hem of my tee shirt. Sliding it underneath, I run it up over my abs toward my chest. The cotton rides up along with my hand, bunching up near my pecs. They flex as I scratch idly at bare skin, pretending an itch. I look up at her from lowered lashes and swallow the satisfied chuckle. Her eyes are following my every move.