“That was probably a mistake,” I blurt out, clamping my lips shut the moment the words are out. I bang the back of my head against the seat, pissed that I said it.
Because I don’t mean it and I’m just proving to him yet again that I really am a Bitch Face. Or an immature idiot, take your pick.
He chuckles, the rich, warm sound slowly unfurling in my belly and making me tremble. “Liar,” he murmurs.
Now I’m sort of pissed at him for calling me out. “I mean it. We should’ve never…kissed.”
He glances at me, dark eyes flashing, his perfectly kissable lips curved into a perfectly adorable smile. “I’m calling bullshit, babe. Sorry.”
“What do you mean, you’re calling bullshit?” He called me babe. What an asshole.
Fine. I liked that he called me babe. A lot. Not that I’d ever, ever tell him.
“We definitely should’ve kissed. Because it was fucking amazing before we were so rudely interrupted by Miss Bogus I’m Looking for the Bathroom, Whoops My Bad, Toodles.”
I start to laugh. I can’t help it. His frustration is so palpable. He hated how that girl interrupted us. I hated it too. I’d had freaking Shepard Prescott on top of me on his bed. He’d been this close to taking off my shirt. And I was going to let him. I desperately wanted to feel his hands on my bare skin. I still want to feel his hands on me.
The interruption helped me realize that what I’m doing with Shep is bad for me. As in, he’s going to leave me in a bad state. More like wreck me. He’s not the lasting kind. More like the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. I know this. My logical, very smart, very cautious brain knows this.
But my body lights up like a burst of flame every time he so much as looks at me with those sexy, full of mystery eyes. He touches me and I melt. And when he kisses me? Oh good lord, all of my very logical, very smart brain cells evaporate into thin air and I’m left wanting more. More, more, more.
“Why are you laughing?” He sounds cranky, which makes me laugh even harder. “It wasn’t funny. We were making progress, Jade. Before she had to ruin it.”
“You call what we were doing progress?” I call it delicious.
Wait. I so didn’t think that.
“Fuck yes, I call it progress.” He slows at a stoplight, turning to look at me. His hair is an absolute mess, sticking up everywhere. I really love his hair. And I’m the one who made that mess because I kept tugging on it while he kissed me. “Stop trying to act like you hate me. I know you don’t.”
“How do you know?” I ask warily, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“You wouldn’t have agreed so readily earlier if you hated me.”
I don’t want you to stop.
The words I said to him ring in my brain. At that very moment, the last thing I wanted was for him to stop. And that makes me feel a little crazy. A lot on edge.
God, he frustrates me. He makes me nuts. He’s so…arrogant. So sure of himself and full of bravado. Plus, it’s not right for a guy to look so deliciously hot. More like it’s unfair.
And why is he interested in me? I don’t get it. Because he supposedly won me in a bet? Does he think I’m easy? I’m so not. I’m difficult. Extremely difficult. I think I’m sexually broken and I have no idea why.
None.
“You don’t hate me.” He settles his hand on my knee and his touch warms my skin, even through the denim of my jeans. “Just admit it, Jade.”
The light turns green and he removes his hand from my leg, turning left onto the street that leads to my dorm hall. My skin is still buzzing from his touch and I’m anxious to get out of this car. Away from Shep so I can hole up in my room, crawl into bed and yank the covers over my head where I’ll try my best to collect my thoughts. Go over what happened tonight and analyze everything.
We’re quiet again as he pulls up in front of my dorm hall and cuts the engine. I undo my seat belt, about to reach down to grab my backpack when he grabs me first, yanking me into him with so much force I have no choice but to scrabble across the center console and collapse on top of him. It’s an exact replica of our position Sunday night and I stare down at him breathlessly, my brain flailing to come up with something to say when he slips his hand across the back of my head and pulls me down to his mouth.
And then he’s kissing me. Again. His other hand is at my waist, sliding beneath my shirt and my cami to touch bare skin, burning me with his fingertips. His lips devour mine, his tongue playing a wicked game within my mouth, making me moan, making me shiver, making me wet.
God, he’s awful. He doesn’t play fair. How can I resist him when he’s kissing me like this? Touching me like this? I grind my hips against his, I can feel his erection straining beneath his jeans and I suck in a harsh breath when his hand wanders up…up…until it’s stopped by the elastic band of my shelf bra.
Stupid, stupid shelf bra.
“You still think it was a mistake?” he mutters against my mouth just before he takes my lower lip between his and sucks on it.
Holy wow, I really like it when he does that.
“Well?” he prompts when I say nothing. It’s like I can’t speak. He slips his hand out from beneath my cami and now he’s touching my chest, his fingers delicately tracing the neckline of my camisole, skimming across the tops of my breasts and I’m trembling. God, his touch feels so incredibly good…
“Answer me, Jade.” His voice is deeper. Firmer. Like he means business. “Do you still think this was a mistake?” His fingers drift lower, across my right nipple and I suck in a gasp.