Blind Landing (Flipped #1) by Carrie Aarons

biting tone in it, like I’m talking right to the fear paralyzing her brain.
    Determination filters in and dilutes the indecision and Nat starts to elegantly trot down the beam, her lithe muscles all working together to catapult her into the dismount.
    But while I’m so busy studying her, my hands aren’t ready. I did the one thing that coaches should never do; take their attention off the gymnast.
    Nat’s leg clips my arm as she pushes off of the beam and flips into the Arabian. My center of gravity topples, sending me flying through the air in an awkward spiral with her.
    The walls and equipment flash by in a blur as I soar through the air, my off-kilter body aiming for the pit below.
    And the next thing I know, I’m face down in the blue foam blocks. Only, I’m not alone. Nat lays under me, her leotard-clad body pressed firmly to mine as my cock nestles between her open thighs.

Thirteen
Natalia
    I have no idea what just happened.
    One minute I’m tumbling over the beam, the part of my brain that second-guesses and doubts completely turned off. I felt my leg come in contact with something else, not the hard beam or the soft pit. Now I realize it must have been some part of Spence.
    My dismount was interrupted, the flow of my body and the spin of my flip completely thrown off by his interfering arm. And now we’re tangled, his strong, athletic body thrown over my own, pressing me down into the blue foam blocks at my back.
    And even though I just fell in almost the exact same way I did when I landed on my neck, fear is not the feeling gripping all of my limbs and emotions right now.
    Lust is.
    I feel my core start to heat, the stirrings of desire flood through my gut. My spine starts to tingle as my back arches up into Spence’s chiseled body, my good sense unable to speak louder than the need coursing through me.
    “Whoops …” Spence’s guilty grin tells me it was an accident that led us to being up close and personal right now, but that he’s not sorry about it.
    “Why do I feel like you planned this?” I don’t move when his hands come up to grip my waist, plunging us even deeper into the foam block quicksand. I couldn’t move right now, even if I wanted to.
    His voice breathes across my lips as he stares at my mouth. “I don’t need to tackle girls into the pit to see some action, Nat. Give me more credit than that.”
    I’m surprised to find my lungs breathless when I answer him. “Is that so? Then why haven’t you gotten off of me yet?”
    We’re both staring at each other’s lips, just hairbreadths away from pushing them together. His hands feel sturdy and controlling on my hips, the way he has me pinned to the sea of foam is sending my head space into a dizzy tumble. This pit could swallow us whole and no one would know.
    “Flirty friends kiss right?”
    Spence’s husky question should send alarm bells ringing in my head. Flirty friends don’t kiss, and we both know it. They tease and poke fun, but they most certainly don’t hookup. Unless they do? Unless they need the relief of what will surely be a fantastic couple-night stand. No strings attached, no complicated relationship.
    “I’m not—”
    Spence never gives me the option of saying I’m not sure. He swoops in, his mouth claiming mine in an exploration that I feel all the way down to the tips of my toes. He nudges and caresses my lips with his own, sending my heart leaping up into my throat. My stomach is doing somersaults, and when he plunges his tongue inside to tangle with my own, the satisfied humming noise that explodes from my throat sends our kiss vibrating.
    Spencer Russell can kiss.
    “Okay, flirty friends can make out.” I snort at my stupid declaration, as if saying it will somehow make the line we just crossed okay.
    Spence doesn’t take the time to joke or make a witty comment. He just keeps on kissing me, stretching and building our kiss until I’m one hot ball of need. His body smashes against mine, the lack