Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series

Hate is too strong a word, but my chest feels tight whenever I have to attend a fundraiser.

Even though we’re here to raise money for a cause near and dear to my heart, I’m not too fond of these functions.

It’s a necessary evil, but it reminds me too much of the past.

Especially when I look at my reflection in the mirror. Currently, my jaw is locked, brow furrowed, and not one hair out of place, but if you knew me enough to know what to look for, you’d know I wasn’t happy. The reason I don’t belong is because the man I am tonight screams that I belong and, worse, that I want to be here. Spoiler alert: I don’t.

These nights always remind me of my father. Of the night when my life changed. It reminds me of him walking down the stairs, dressed in a tuxedo, my mother with him, and how he said he’d see me later.

How my mom gave me a kiss and told me to be good. I wasn’t, and she died because of my mistake.

So even though I wasn’t driving the car, and I didn’t kill my mom, whenever I look at myself in the mirror, I see my father.

All the parts of him I hate.

I lift my hand to my tie and center it, then adjust my tuxedo jacket. Once everything is in place, I take a deep breath and walk out of the bathroom.

Tonight is already in full swing. The grand ballroom looks opulent, adorned with large chandeliers and rich burgundy tablecloths. Sheer drapes add to the timeless luxury, and it makes me want to roll my eyes.

None of this is needed. It’s so extra.

I peer around the room and my hands fist. The who’s who of Redville elite are all here, milling about, glasses raised, praising themselves like they did something important. Sure, they helped raise money, but in my mind, no one needed to take credit for their good deeds. The moment you do, it loses its soul.

The women in attendance are decked to the nines, dripping in jewels, dolled up, and begging for attention. All the guys from the team are here, scattered around, doing their best to work the room.

I should be mingling too, but I’m searching for one person instead. I’m having no luck finding her, but as if the crowd can hear me, they part, and she’s there.

Josephine is always gorgeous, but today she looks like a goddess. She’s wearing a stunning red gown that clings to her curves in all the right places. Her blond hair is swept up, exposing the graceful line of her neck.

What I wouldn’t do to touch that neck. To caress her soft skin. But that’s not in the cards, and I’ve been trying my hardest to stay away from her since she came to work for the team. The problem is, no matter where I go, she’s there.

She haunts my every thought and my every dream.

It’s a real problem.

Astonishingly, for the first time since I’ve known her, I don’t even care.

I’m not the only one drawn to her either. My gaze drifts around the room, and a bunch of my teammates are staring, most likely thinking the same thing I am.

A drink will help tamp down my need for her.

With a new goal in mind, I stride to the nearest bar.

Once there, I rest my hand on the sleek marble, then lean forward to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whiskey, neat.”

My new location is even worse. Now I have a clear shot of the little hellfire, holding court and laughing away with random men who would love nothing more than to bring her home for the night.

Must be nice for them not to be burdened with the desire to have something you can never have. Soon, a drink is in my hand, and I lean up against the bar, nursing it, and try my best not to watch her. All is lost, however, when Hudson gallops up to her, like a prince in a fairy tale who would happily slay the beast for a moment in her bed.

It’s too bad I like the guy so much because I’m having a hard time not wanting to kill him for how close he’s currently standing next to her. I have no business being jealous. She’s not mine, but it doesn’t stop the fact that I want her, and I can’t stand that my friend isn’t burdened by the guilt of what Coach would say if I had her.

Hudson and Robert don’t have the same relationship that we do. Robert has been the one stable person in my life despite Molly.

I shouldn’t jeopardize that relationship. Right?

He reaches out a hand, and she takes it; then, before I can even blink, they’re on the dance floor.

Fuck it, I’m going to kill him.

Fine. I won’t, but I watch him dance with my girl. She’s not your girl.

She should be, though. She should be in my arms, not his.

Breathe.

Nothing has happened to warrant kicking his ass, it’s not like—goddamn. His hand is practically touching her ass.

Friendship be damned. I’m putting an end to this. I hate how jealous I am. It bubbles up inside me like a volcano erupting, and before I can stop myself, I’m striding across the space until I’m beside them.

They’re still dancing, but Hudson stops when I playfully shove him.

The bastard has the audacity to smirk at me. “How can I help you, Daney-boy?”

I shoot him a look that would scare a lesser man, but Hudson is too rambunctious to sense a threat. “I’m cutting in.”

Now, his smirk is a full-fledged smile. “Are you now?” He’s loving this, loving my weakness. Hudson has been hinting for the past few weeks despite never letting on my history with Josephine. Despite his playboy persona, he’s observant as all hell—a genuinely good trait unless it’s aimed at you.

I suck in a deep breath. “Yes, asshole, I am. I need to talk to Josephine.”

“Josephine?” He turns to look at her, but look isn’t the right word. He undresses her lazily with his eyes. “Is that your full name?” His voice has dropped an octave, the pitch he has reserved for his future conquests. Is this asshole for real? I cross my arms at my chest, trying my best not to strangle my friend.

“What the fuck do you think Josie stands for? Michelle?” I bite out. I should really rein it the fuck in. I’m losing it, and I’m usually more stoic than an ancient rock.

Josephine, on the other hand, seems to be eating this shit up. “It is.” She beams up at him, cheeks flushed.

“I like it, although I like Josie better.”

“Hudson,” I practically growl.

“Oh, you’re still here.” He lets out a sigh. “Fine. But, Josie, you better save a dance for me.”

If it were possible for smoke to billow out of my ears, it would. Turning in her direction, I look at her face to see her answer. A small smile tips her lips, but she doesn’t say anything. Smart girl.

Hudson fucking bows in Josephine’s direction, and she goddamn giggles, and then it’s just the two of us.

From this close, the image in front of me is even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

So fucking breathtaking it hurts.

Her features seem softer, and her blue eyes sparkle like the ocean.

What has this girl done to me? Here I’m the grumpiest asshole on my best day, but one minute in her presence, and I’m practically waxing poetic.

This whole line of thought has me unhinged, my mind moving a million miles a minute until the only thing I can do to shut my brain off is pull her into my arms.

Shit.

The moment I feel her pressed against me, it hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m fucked.

I don’t think I have the power to continue to push her away.

“Are we going to dance or not?” she chides, and her words set me into action. With my hand on her lower back, my fingers caress her bare skin, and I start to sway her body.

“Can you be mindful of my hair?” she asks. “It’s full of pins.”

I arch a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You know, when you drag me back to your cave.” And then, taking a deep breath, she asks, “What the hell was that?”

I try to find an excuse but sigh. I’m too tired for this shit. “I didn’t like him touching you,” I admit.

Josephine glares up at me. “So . . . you decided—what? Only you can touch me? Um, I don’t like taxes, but I don’t go around killing IRS officers, jeez.”

My hand tightens against her back. “I didn’t get that far. But seeing you together made me . . .”

Her feet stop moving. “Made you what?”

Despite the music flowing around us, the air is tense with our silence.

I clear my throat. “Angry. Jealous. Take your pick.”

Josephine’s eyes soften. “You can’t act like a caveman in public. My father—”

I nod. There’s no denying she’s right. “I know.”

Josephine lets out a sigh before she starts moving again, and we continue to sway our bodies together, my fingers tracing small circles on her back.

For a moment, the knots in my shoulders uncoil, and it feels like anything is possible, but then the song ends and transitions to a different one.

I halt my movement, feet now frozen to the floor. “This dance is over.”

Silence engulfs us before she shakes her head. I look down at her, noticing a tight jaw and eyes that seem to burn into mine. “Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

She draws in a deep breath. “That didn’t take long at all.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. “What didn’t take long?”

“For you to become an asshole again.” She takes a step away from me, and I miss the comfort I find in her touch immediately. Josephine smooths down her dress, and once it’s back in place, she turns on her heels without another word, heading toward the exit.

I trail her. “Where are you going?”

She doesn’t answer, and I follow her, even when she walks down the wrong hallway, going God knows where.

Her steps are wobbly, either from drinking too much or from anger, but I’d put my money on the latter. She stumbles forward, and for a second, I think she’s going to fall, but I’m quick on my feet, reaching my arms out to catch her before she does.

Once in my arms, I pull her close to me.

She feels perfect in my arms. When I look down at her, I want to kick myself. Her big blue eyes are locked on mine, but the way she’s biting down on her lower lip makes my heart beat faster. They look so fucking plump and kissable right now. I want to bite that lip, suck on her skin.

I should let her go now, but with our bodies entwined, I don’t want to. I like how she feels in my arms. I lean in. She exhales, and we’re so close I can almost taste the mint on her lips.

I want to. Her lids flutter shut, and I pull her even closer.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“I don’t fucking know?”

The sexual tension crackles through the air. I don’t think, I just act, crashing my lips to hers. The kiss is desperate, and with each swipe of my tongue, she holds me tighter, fingers digging into the back of my neck.

I might die if I’m not inside her—now.

“Fuck,” I grit out; my throat feels rough, like I’ve swallowed gravel.

The buildup to this moment has been excruciating, but now that we are finally here, I don’t want to stop. I pull back for a second before I descend again . . .

The kiss intensifies. We both need more. I glide my fingers down the exposed skin of her neck, dipping down her collar and trailing over the swell of her breast.

“I need you. Now.” I pull away from her, take her hand in mine, and set off. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I need to find a place for us to be alone.

Finally, I spot a door and throw it open. I’m lucky it wasn’t locked, and I’m even luckier when I see a table in the middle of the room.

I turn toward her, pick her up in my arms, and place her on the table.

My hands lift the hem of her dress until it bunches at her waist. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I close the small distance between us and kiss her, then I deepen the kiss. Our mouths collide in a frenzy of passion. “Fuck,” I say against her lips as I stop kissing her.

“What’s wrong?” Her fingers tighten in my hair as she tilts my face down to look at her.

“I don’t have a condom.”

One hand drops to caress my jaw, her soft fingers trailing across my skin. “I’m on the pill and have never had sex without one.”

“Me either,” I admit before lifting my brow. “You sure?”

“Yes, please. I need you,” she rasps, and with my free hand, I unzip my pants, stroking myself from root to tip.

The sound of the party drifts across the air, reminding me I don’t have time to worship her.

That’s a shame because I would give anything to take my time with her, enjoy every second, and make her come as many times as I can.

My heart jolts in my chest as I press myself against her heat. She’s so goddamn wet, I can’t wait to sink inside her.

Soon, but not yet.

I swirl the head of my dick on her clit, then at her entrance, collecting the moisture.

“More,” she begs, and I push forward, just the tip, torturing both of us. “Fuck me already, Dane.”

I slam into her hard and fast, and she gasps when I bottom out inside her.

Tilting my head forward, I admire the sight before me. My cock buried to the hilt.

“Look at us,” I groan, and she drops her chin to see what I see. A moan escapes her mouth as I pull back, my cream-covered cock gleaming.

Her mouth drops open as I thrust back in, every nerve ending in my body rejoicing. With my free hand, I find her clit, and rub in rhythm with my thrusts. She cries out, and I stop my movements.

“Hellfire, I’m going to need you to be quiet. Unless you want your father to hear us?”

Her hand reaches up to cover her mouth, and I move again.

I’m not sure if it’s the idea of being caught or finally being inside her again, but it doesn’t take me long to feel my balls tightening. I need her to come. I flick her clit harder and fuck her deeper.

“Yes,” she mutters behind her fist. “Just like that.”

I grab her hand from her mouth and seal my lips over hers. She tastes like champagne and strawberries. She’s the most decadent forbidden fruit, and I can’t get enough.

A moan escapes her, and I swallow the sound, fusing us closer until our tongues meet in a frenzy of soft strokes that soon become nips and bites.

Josephine’s fingers find purchase in my locks, pulling at the roots until the point of pain.

It doesn’t matter, though; her need fuels me. I swirl my tongue in her mouth and clutch her tighter, picking up my pace.

Her walls tighten around me, and in turn, my dick jerks as I fill her up. Moans escape us both, and our bodies tremble together.

For a moment, we just catch our breath, but then reality sets in. We aren’t safe here. We need to leave.

I pull out, and she sighs as I do.

“Now what?”

“I really don’t know, Hellfire.”

And I don’t. All I know is I don’t want to let her go yet.