I don’t know how long we go on kissing each other. I don’t know how long he sucks on my lower lip or how long I claw at his t-shirt but somewhere during all of that, something has happened.
Something vital and important that hadn’t happened two years ago and I feel it in my thighs.
I feel hishandson my thighs. Both of them.
His fingers are gripping me, my flesh, and they’re so forceful, so dominating that it makes me whimper and gasp in his mouth.
Our lips break apart and we pant.
With a heaving chest, I glance down between us.
I see his soaked t-shirt that sticks to his contoured muscles and raindrops decorating his arms. But more than that I see myself.
I see why it was such a shock to have his hands on my thighs.
Because my dress — as soaked as his t-shirt — is all messed up.
My ivory dress with a lacy overlay that I wore for him tonight, that was hiding me away from the world, from his animal eyes, has ridden up.
All the way up to the tops of my thighs.
And he can see what he couldn’t. Back then.
He can see my panties.
A peek of them at least. A very tiny peek of my cream-colored lacy panties, and he’s right there.
His hands with knobby knuckles and long fingers and moon-kissed skin areright there. At the seam of my panties. So much so that if he decides to stretch out his fingers more, he’ll touch it.
He’ll touch me. My core, and even though it’s covered, I don’t think it’s much protection from him.
I snap my eyes up to his face then and blurt out, “Reed, I need —”
He doesn’t let me talk though.
He gropes at my thighs forcefully, making me gasp again and fist his damp shirt on his shoulders.
“No,” he growls, sitting back in the seat, sprawled and wet and sexy. “You don’t get to talk anymore. Time for talking is over. It’s time for something else, isn’t it?”
I swallow, staring at his features, all tight and leached of color. “Reed —”
“It’s time for you to show me what he taught you.” He squeezes my thighs again. “Show me all the new skills you’ve learned from him.”
I shake my head, squirming in his lap. “This is not about that, Reed. You —”
He lets go of my thigh then and brings one of his hands to grab my face, cutting me off. Pressing his fingers on my cheek, he asks, “Did he teach you new moves, Fae, huh? New tricks. Did he teach my Fae, my pure,daisy freshFae, all the new shiny tricks? Is she going to dance dirty for me now, huh?”
“Reed.”
“Because she knows everything now, doesn’t she?” He shifts up from the seat, his muscles taut and angry. “Thanks to onefuckingToby. Who I’m going to end by the way. I’m going to find him and I’m going to tear him limb from limb for taking what was mine. Whatbelongedto me.”
I grab his face too then, my eyes stinging, my body burning with his jealousy. With the heat radiating out of him. Out of hisvampire skin and his black, villainous eyes. “It didn’t belong to you, okay? It didn’t. Please, Reed. This is about us. This is —”
He rises from the seat like a coiled animal then, ready to strike, to bite, to leave teeth marks all over my skin and poison my veins with his venom and my stupid heart rejoices at that. That he’s leaving something in my body that will stay with me and it doesn’t even care that it’s poison and that it will kill me slowly.
“There’s no us though, is there?” he growls, the words ripping out of his chest. “That’s the whole point. There will never be an us. Isn’t that why you want me to do this?”
At his word ‘this,’ that hand of his on my thighs moves and his thumb touches the seam of my panties.
