I feel her shiver under my fingers, and a messed-up wave of emotion crashes over me. She doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans in closer.
“Lilly,” I say, but it comes out as a low growl.
She takes a few seconds before turning to face me. “Amos.” Her voice is barely a breath, but her eyes say she’s just as shaken as I am.
I don’t even remember there’s an audience—but she does, because she says, “This is Benjamin Stone.” She acts like she hasn’t already given me his name by text. “He’s a childhood friend.”
Amateur football player. Twenty-two. Law student.
I already have everything I need to know about him—but from the way Lilly reacted when she saw me, the guy’s no threat.
Still, jealousy doesn’t play fair, and knowing they spent nearly the whole day together makes me wish I had been the one showing her around campus.
Probably the lack of sleep. That’s the only thing that explains this irrational shit—because I don’t know the first thing about this university.
He extends his hand toward me, and I size him up before accepting it.
“Aren’t you going to tell me your friend’s name, Lilly?” the blond guy asks, and it takes me a second to realize that while she may see him as just a friend, he wants more.
“Of course . . . Ben, this is Amos. My—”
“Yoursis the perfect way to describe me, baby,” I say, cutting her off, unable to stop myself from being a possessive bastard.
“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.” She emphasizes those last words, making me feel even more like an asshole for even thinking she’d try to hide us.
I think I hear a soft laugh from the guy.
“Nice to meet you, Amos.” He offers his hand again, and I finally shake it. “Well, this has been fun, but I think I’ll head out.”
“Thanks for the tour, Ben.”
“Anytime. We’ll talk later this week about your mom’s fundraiser.”
“Okay.”
I’m paying close attention to their exchange—and only then do I remember she invited me to the event. “We’ll both be going, baby.”
He finally walks away, and I say to Lilly, “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“Food. I’m starving.”
She steps closer, right into my arms. “I can make something at home.”
Jesus Christ.
“I want to take you somewhere,” I lie, buying myself time—because now that she’s this close, I realize all my plans to take it slow just went to hell.
As sure as the sun’s coming up tomorrow, the moment we’re back at my place, I will have her.
“Alright,” she agrees, sounding a little disappointed.
I’m not the kind of guy who shows affection in public, but here I am, cupping her face and kissing the mouth I’ve been craving for weeks.
It was supposed to be a light kiss—to reassure her that we’re okay—but when she opens up, I lose control. I devour her lips and tongue until she moans.
Laughter nearby finally snaps me back to reality, and I force myself to stop.
