All Over You (Unforgettable You, Book 1.5) Read Online Free
Author: Beverley Kendall
Tags: Romance, Samantha Young, Tammara Webber, Contemporary Romance, Colleen Hoover, Abbi Glines, new adult, new adult romance, adult contemporary romance, collegeset romance
the defensive ends or the fact that Zach’s the quarterback of their team that does the trick, but it’s like the testosterone level outside drops back down to post-caveman levels. When it becomes clear there won’t be any blood spilled tonight—my blood—the bloodthirsty onlookers grumble their disappointment and go back to what they were doing. Which means getting shitfaced.
I turn and instantly reach for Becca. She’s shivering but it’s still warm for fall in upstate New York so I know it’s not from the cold. She doesn’t resist when I take her hands in mine and examine her scraped palms. I’m relieved to see that they don’t look as bad as I thought they would.
“We’ll get this cleaned up when I take you home,” I murmur.
“Rebecca, you okay?”
I turn back to a concerned Zach just in time to see the taillights of Cam’s Mustang as he speeds away. Good riddance.
“I’m okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Look, thanks for that,” I say. The guy saved my ass. I owe him big time.
“Naw man, it’s nothing. Those guys are…well let’s just say I’m not sure which they love more, being defensive tackles or fighting. Or maybe it’s one and the same to them,” he says, shaking his head in wonder.
His expression instantly becomes serious when he shifts his attention to Becca. “Olivia asked me to make sure you were okay. She saw you leave with what’s his face.”
Becca’s gaze flicks up to mine and then to Zach.
“Tell Olivia I’m going to take her home,” I say just as Becca opens her mouth to respond.
Zach watches her intently for a couple seconds before giving a firm nod. “Okay, I’ll tell Liv.”
While he heads back to the party, I get us to my car, open the door and bundle a curiously amenable Becca into the passenger seat. For a second she looks up at me, her eyes halfway closed, her scraped palms cradled on her lap. “Scott.”
That’s it. Just my name. Not spoken in anger or indifference.
There was a point tonight when I would have gladly wrung her neck. But looking into her heavy-lidded blue eyes and taking in her forlorn expression, the anger I’d felt drains from me.
I draw in a deep, calming breath and expel it slowly. “I’m taking you home.”
CHAPTER THREE
R EBECCA
I’m not at my best waking up with a hangover. Who is? No one I know. I remain absolutely still and pry my right eye open. There’s a dull throb at my temple. Not completely horrible and not so much that I won’t attempt to force open the other eye.
My room is still gloriously dark, save faint strains of autumn light filtering through the thick curtains covering the double windows facing east.
Last night’s events come back to me in a flood of shameful memories. I slam both eyes shut. Ow , that hurts, and my palms sting. It’s at that moment I become aware of the hand on my waist and the all-encompassing heat at my back.
The kind of heat only another body can generate.
Before I can react, an achingly familiar scent assails my nostrils and a large male hand flattens against my stomach, keeping my back pressed against his chest, rendering me momentarily motionless and breathless.
“ You’re awake.” Scratchy with sleep and deep enough to start my heart fluttering, it’s the voice that’s haunted my dreams. And tortured plenty of my waking moments too.
Scott.
A part of me relaxes at the same time an unmistakable tension enters my body. I slept with Scott for almost a year so I’m quite familiar with that tension. Headache and the heartbreak of the past are forgotten in that moment. Heat pools between my thighs and the dull throbbing is now centered there.
He could always do this to me if I let him get close enough. Make my body ache, make me want him like he’s a drug and I’m addicted. As if sensing the war my body is fighting with my mind, his hand drifts lower until it’s splayed over my lower stomach, his finger dancing just
I turn and instantly reach for Becca. She’s shivering but it’s still warm for fall in upstate New York so I know it’s not from the cold. She doesn’t resist when I take her hands in mine and examine her scraped palms. I’m relieved to see that they don’t look as bad as I thought they would.
“We’ll get this cleaned up when I take you home,” I murmur.
“Rebecca, you okay?”
I turn back to a concerned Zach just in time to see the taillights of Cam’s Mustang as he speeds away. Good riddance.
“I’m okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Look, thanks for that,” I say. The guy saved my ass. I owe him big time.
“Naw man, it’s nothing. Those guys are…well let’s just say I’m not sure which they love more, being defensive tackles or fighting. Or maybe it’s one and the same to them,” he says, shaking his head in wonder.
His expression instantly becomes serious when he shifts his attention to Becca. “Olivia asked me to make sure you were okay. She saw you leave with what’s his face.”
Becca’s gaze flicks up to mine and then to Zach.
“Tell Olivia I’m going to take her home,” I say just as Becca opens her mouth to respond.
Zach watches her intently for a couple seconds before giving a firm nod. “Okay, I’ll tell Liv.”
While he heads back to the party, I get us to my car, open the door and bundle a curiously amenable Becca into the passenger seat. For a second she looks up at me, her eyes halfway closed, her scraped palms cradled on her lap. “Scott.”
That’s it. Just my name. Not spoken in anger or indifference.
There was a point tonight when I would have gladly wrung her neck. But looking into her heavy-lidded blue eyes and taking in her forlorn expression, the anger I’d felt drains from me.
I draw in a deep, calming breath and expel it slowly. “I’m taking you home.”
CHAPTER THREE
R EBECCA
I’m not at my best waking up with a hangover. Who is? No one I know. I remain absolutely still and pry my right eye open. There’s a dull throb at my temple. Not completely horrible and not so much that I won’t attempt to force open the other eye.
My room is still gloriously dark, save faint strains of autumn light filtering through the thick curtains covering the double windows facing east.
Last night’s events come back to me in a flood of shameful memories. I slam both eyes shut. Ow , that hurts, and my palms sting. It’s at that moment I become aware of the hand on my waist and the all-encompassing heat at my back.
The kind of heat only another body can generate.
Before I can react, an achingly familiar scent assails my nostrils and a large male hand flattens against my stomach, keeping my back pressed against his chest, rendering me momentarily motionless and breathless.
“ You’re awake.” Scratchy with sleep and deep enough to start my heart fluttering, it’s the voice that’s haunted my dreams. And tortured plenty of my waking moments too.
Scott.
A part of me relaxes at the same time an unmistakable tension enters my body. I slept with Scott for almost a year so I’m quite familiar with that tension. Headache and the heartbreak of the past are forgotten in that moment. Heat pools between my thighs and the dull throbbing is now centered there.
He could always do this to me if I let him get close enough. Make my body ache, make me want him like he’s a drug and I’m addicted. As if sensing the war my body is fighting with my mind, his hand drifts lower until it’s splayed over my lower stomach, his finger dancing just