He grins, cruel and gorgeous. “Not until you tell me who owns this pussy.”
“You—”
“Louder.”
“You do, Will—you do!”
He growls, slams into me once more and lets me break. Lets me come, full-body shaking, head thrown back, breath shattered.
And then? He flips me onto my back and keeps going. Harder. Darker. Rougher. Until I’ve come again and he finisheswith a low sound, collapsing over me, both of us breathless and ruined.
Finally, he pulls back enough to look me in the eye, brushing hair from my face.
“Next time,” he murmurs, still breathless, “you pull that phone stunt again…”
“What?” I whisper, dazed.
His mouth curls into a wicked grin.
“I’m answering on speaker.”
23
Another month flies by.
Somehow, I still haven’t gotten enough of him. We spend every second we can steal, slipping between moments like we’re racing time itself. Every kiss, every laugh, every lazy morning tangled in sheets makes me want more. And somehow, even more still isn’t enough.
Which is why I finally break down and text Tish.
Tish Garcia
Hey. Are you busy?
T:For you? Never.
I don’t text back. I call her instead.
“Hey,” I say when she picks up.
“Hey! What’s up?” There’s a smile in her voice, bubbly and curious.
I exhale hard, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I’m about to tell you something, and you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”
“Oooh, a secret?” she gasps. “You know I live for this. I’m in.”
I bite my lip. “I’ve been seeing someone. For a while now.”
Tish squeals so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “What?! Who? Tell me everything!”
I close my eyes and say it before I can second-guess myself. “Will Flowers.”
She asks, “As in Sam’s best friend?”
“That’s the one.”
Another beat passes. I can practically hear her blinking in disbelief.
“Am I a terrible person?” I ask quietly.
