“I was just kidding, Cooper. Touchy, aren’t you?” she teases, grabbing the scrunchie I’d taken from her earlier. She ties it around the sheet to keep it from slipping off her body.
Her clothes are still in the dryer. We’d sprinted back from Golden Gate Park when the storm broke, completely soaked. We’d gone for one of our usual walks with Percy, and she’d convinced me to play guitar in front of the crowd. She even filmed it—says she’ll post it on YouTube and that I’ll be a superstar and win a Grammy soon. I don’t really believe her, but just hearing her say it makes me happy. Hopeful.
The opening beat ofCrazy in Loveby Beyoncé and JAY-Z fills the room, and she rises to her feet. I freeze, remembering how she’d danced to it this morning in PE class after Max dared her—right after we caught her secretly looking at photos of her and Asher.
Now she walks toward me, the sheet tied tight around her curves. My pulse spikes and the clothes slips from my hands.
She stops a step away, smirking at the fallen clothes. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair deliciously mussed and her eyes glowing in the candlelight. We lit them when the storm knocked out the power, and even though the electricity came back an hour ago, she insisted we keep the candles instead.
“I make you nervous, Vincent Cooper?” she asks, nudging me playfully with her elbow.
I shake my head, biting back a grin. “No way.”
She steps closer, her voice low. “Yes, I do.”
“At all.”Liar.
She arches a brow. “And—Hey! That’s cheating!”
We burst out laughing as I scoop her up and toss her over my shoulder, carrying her toward the bed.
“I like where this is going,” she whispers in my ear, clinging to my arm as I set her down.
“Me too, Marshall. I like everything about you.” My lips trace down her neck in a trail of kisses.
I stop at the sheet covering her chest, giving her a questioning look. She answers by untying the elastic and letting the fabric fall. Beneath, she’s only in her panties. Her hand brushes the small purple stars Jonah Smith tattooed under her breasts.
“Did I ever tell you I love this tattoo?” I murmur, kissing along the valley of her skin until my lips brush over each tiny star.
She twirls a lock of my hair around her finger, smiling faintly, before pulling me back up to her face. My hands cradle her cheeks as I kiss her—harder, deeper than usual.
Nova wraps her legs around my waist, fingers tugging at my curls as we roll through the sheets until she ends up straddling me. She grinds against me, and I bite my cheek, swallowing back a moan.
Her grin turns wicked. She thrusts again, and this time I can’t hold it back. A sound slips free, and she seizes the chance to press her tongue into my mouth, teasing and claiming. She knows exactly what she’s doing—how to unravel me—and she loves being the only one who can.
This time, we don’t stop at just kissing. Her mouth moves against mine with urgency, desperate and hungry. Her tongue flicks and teases until I’m lost in her rhythm.
My hands trail down her back, gripping her hips, sliding lower just to feel more of her. She moans softly against my mouth, and it nearly undoes me.
She shifts, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate grind that makes my breath hitch. My fingers dig into her waist, pulling her closer. I want her everywhere.
My lips leave hers to taste her jawline, her throat, the spot just under her ear that makes her shiver. Her skin’s so warm, tasting faintly of my soap.
“Vincent...” she whispers, half-moan, half-plea.
I answer by kissing her harder, tugging her bottom lip between my teeth until she gasps. Her fingers clutch at my shoulders, her nails scraping lightly over my skin through the towel. She loves hearing the sound she just dragged from me, and I can see it in her eyes.
Then she pulls back suddenly, frowning. “Your eyes are red.”
“Hm?”
“Your eyes. Did you put your drops in today?”
“Nova...” I lean my head back against the pillow.
She folds her arms, still on my lap, and gives methatlook.
“You know you have to put them at least two or three times a day. You’ll hurt your eyes otherwise.”
