“It’s easier,” I admit, the fight leaving me.
“Why?”
“Because the alternative is terrifying. I’m going to college soon; we all are. I don’t want to be another stigma… I want to belong.”
“Then don’t waste it on some asshat with bedpost scratchings.”
“And who’s gonna take it, you?”
His eyes answer for him, darkening with a desire I can’t quite describe.
“All you have to do is ask.”
I freeze.
“That’s not—”
He cuts me off. “If you want to lose your virginity, lose it to someone who actually gives a fuck about you. Someone who would tear down mountains and reduce them to rubble if they stood in your way.” He moves before I can respond, lips covering mine with such fierce intention that it dismantles every snippy comeback I have. He kisses me like a madman, his grip on my hip marking me with possession, a flash of desire erupting in his eyes like lightning. It’s all there. Every feeling I tried to suppress and cover with hostility, all of it spills out of me like a faucet set to overflow.
My hands move to his shirt, gripping it tightly, my moan stifled by his lips that are punishing and full of promise.
It feels right… like he’s the one who I’m meant to be with.
We move into the house, smashing against open doors, tearing at the clothing that dares to separate us.
I want to tell him no. To stop what my heart wants, and my head says is too risky, but I can’t. Not when he kisses like fury and desire collided and I’m trapped in the wreckage.
His mouth is everywhere, demanding more, unrelenting in his pursuit. It’s like he’s trying to prove something to both of us, that somehow something so imperfect will suddenly become everything.
My back hits the wall, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs as his forehead presses to mine, both of us breathing hard.
“This is a mistake,” I whisper, even as my body betrays me and I lean into his embrace, enjoying how my ice collides with his heat.
He’s never questioned this… us. All that we could be.
Wesley believes in something that just isn’t possible: a future that we know will always end in heartbreak. It still doesn’t stop him from drawing me closer, or toying with my cleavage like it’s his.
“Then stop me,” he murmurs, lips brushing over my jaw. Shivers cascade down my spine like enticing waterfalls. “Say the word and I’ll walk out the door.”
I don’t.
Instead, I drag him closer, my fingers digging into his hair, pulling at the follicles as he sucks on the sensitive part of my skin. His mouth is hot and sultry, his movements predatory and restrained all at once. His grip tightens, anchoring me, grounding me, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
We stumble deeper into the house, adrenaline and want colliding, every step reckless and breathless. My heart is pounding so loud I’m sure he can feel the rhythm too.
This is too much.
Too fast.
Too dangerous.
We get to my door, the only barrier separating us from something real. It’s terrifying how close we are to changing everything and rewriting a history that was made to be broken.
That’s when reality finally slams into me.
I can’t do this.
Not with him.
