My mouth curves into a smirk as I note she doesn’t tell me not to call her a bad little girl. By day, she pretends to be a straight A, strait-laced coed, but with me, she’s something else entirely.
“You’d think being late is no big deal, but sometimes it is.” I pull in and spot Sorensen in the doorway. The truck’s gone, so the crates are inside. “Stay in the car a minute. I’ll take you in the front door so you can make an entrance.”
Her brows draw together in consternation. “I don’t want to. I’ll just come in with you.”
I’m surprised. Why wouldn’t a girl who looks like she does tonight want a big entrance? “Not through the back. But if you want a low-key arrival, that’s fine.”
The tension in her shoulders eases, and she nods.
“You don’t like parties?”
Her gaze shifts away from me, staring into the middle distance. “Depends,” she murmurs.
I stroke her jaw with my thumb. My girl has secrets. I want in on them. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
AVERY
Shane leaves the car, but his presence lingers. The faint scent of soap and spicy cologne, the memory of the timbre of his voice when he implied I owe him a sexy payback for taking so long to get ready. It would be easy to get swept up in the moment.
But the night is a ticking time bomb that could lead to an explosion of bad memories. I flick a finger against the inside my wrist. The pain helps distract from anxiety.
Let it go, Elsa.
Maybe this party is exactly what I need. Immersion therapy, of sorts, with Shane’s larger than life presence creating a different focus.
As he emerges from the doorway, I admire the cut of his suit and the way he looks in it. Handsome. Powerful. Rich. The suit must have cost ten times what my dress did. Shane seems to have plenty of money, probably from shady deeds done for his grandfather. Monster, indeed.
He opens my door and holds out his hand. I take it, and my stomach flutters. Every time he touches me, I feel it to my core. Gooseflesh rises as I ease out of the seat and feel the heat of his body as I come into contact with him.
The night is pretty, but cold. The smell of smoke from a grill and the more subtle scents of fallen leaves being churned into soil waft by.
Shane slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side. The warmth of his body is welcome. “The side entrance isn’t far.”
We turn a corner and follow a narrow path.
He checks the side door and, finding it unlocked, pushes it open. I step in and onto a dimly lit landing. Behind us, he locks the door.
“Finally a dark corner I can use. I’ll take a kiss.” His voice is low and sexy and seems to curl right into my body from my belly down to the V between my legs.
I squeeze my thighs together, pressing the spot that hums with anticipation. “No kissing.” I sound winded. “We decided, remember?”
“No.” Shane’s breath smells faintly of liquor, and I realize he must have had a drink when he was in the house. His lips brush against mine, soft and tantalizing. “Live dangerously.”
Don’t, caution whispers. But I do. When his lips press against mine, my mouth opens for him. The tip of my tongue touches his, and he strokes it slowly, penetrating my mouth and staking his claim.
He tastes of whiskey. Sexy and delicious.
Three years of wondering what this would be like finally comes to a close while we’re cloaked in formal wear and darkness, standing in secret on a frat house landing.
The kiss is dangerously perfect.
One of his hands presses against my back, gathering me to him. His body is warm and solid, and mine melts against it.
The way we explore each other’s mouths is unhurried and laced with lust. My arm snakes around him, too. A hand slips under his suit jacket, so I can feel his back through the soft fabric of his shirt.
Several moments pass, every one warmer than the one before, until I’m flushed and aching for him. His grip on me tightens, anchoring me against his hard body as the kiss turns deeper and more demanding.
