What's the worst that can happen when you're forced to co-captain with your rival?
Nova Shields can't stand Leo Hendrix. She hates his arrogance and obnoxiousness, that crooked smirk he does when he thinks he's right. Leo can't stand Nova's wits, t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
NOVA =============== 28/02/2003 Panay, The Philippines ================
"What?" I whisper, practically speaking right into his mouth from how close we are.
"I said what I said. I want you, Nova." He sighs against my lips, his unruly hair brushing against my forehead.
"You said it was a mistake," I repeat, forced to look up into his eyes as he tilts my chin a little higher. His calloused thumb sweeps across my lower lip.
"And I'm a damn good liar," he whispers.
Lips crash against mine the second he finishes his sentence, my back slamming against the outside wall.
God, yes. This is what I fucking want. His lips all over mine. Once again, it feels euphoric.
We're acting like two starving wild animals, right out in the fucking open where anybody could look between the buildings and see us.
Although, that's the least of my worries right now, and it seems he's thinking the same thing. He pulls away, grabbing my hand and leading me somewhere.
"Where are we going now?" I snicker, my heart thundering in my chest at the suddenness of everything.
He glances behind at me and furrows his eyebrows, turning so we're at the back of the barracks before shoving me against the wall.
"Somewhere we don't have to worry about being caught." He says as he leans down, snaking an arm around the back of my waist and pressing himself against me.
His other hand is grasps at the back of my hair, guiding my lips back against his own.
His tongue glides into my mouth as I grate my nails down the back of his shirt. He groans, even more so as I slide my hands underneath his shirt, letting my fingertips brush against his bare skin.
They trace carefully across the ridges of his muscles, down every scar on his back; every single one a reminder of our careers. His hand around my waist starts to tug at the hem of my vest, he pulls away from my lips momentarily.
"Do you want this?" He whispers, seriousness in his eyes.
"Yeah, Leo. I do," I give him a small, hazy grin. Without a doubt this time.
"You're absolutely fucking beautiful, you know?" He returns the grin against my skin, pressing his lips against my neck.
"No," I laugh breathily, slightly distracted by his mouth. I'm not lying. I don't think I'm ugly, but I'm definitely far too rough around the edges to be considered 'beautiful'.
