My pulse pounded beneath her touch, a traitorous rhythm that gave me away.

Beverly’s eyes flickered to my jaw, to my throat, watching the way I swallowed hard. I reached down and brushed my thumb over her cheek, just once, just for the illusion of having her.

Her breath was warm against my skin, close enough that I could feel it when she whispered, “Blake.”

My name. Not a teasing, smug remark. Just my name.

I didn’t even realize I was moving until I grabbed her wrist. Her breath hitched. I stared down at her, my grip tight, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to make sure she couldn’t pull away.

Not that she tried.

Her pulse fluttered against my fingers, but she didn’t move.

She wanted me to do something.

She was waiting.

I tugged her forward and she gasped softly, stumbling into me, her hands landing against my chest.

I let go of her wrist, but my hands didn’t leave her.

They couldn’t.

Instead, my fingers traced down her sides until I was gripping her waist. I felt it her stomach tense beneath my palms. Felt the way she leaned in just slightly, like her body already knew what she wanted before she did. Her lips parted slightly, her breath coming out in uneven, shallow exhales. And hell, if that wasn’t the worst part—the way she wasn’t pushing me away. The way she was waiting. The way her hands curled into the fabric of my hoodie, holding on like she wanted me to stay.

“Say it again,” I rasped, the words slipping out of me without thinking. My voice was rough, lower than I’d meant it to be.

“Say what again?” she whispered. “That I want to kiss you?”

My fingers dug into her waist. “Yeah,” I said, my voice thick, a mix of want and need that I didn’t bother hiding anymore. “That.”

Beverly wet her lips, like she was thinking. Like she was about to say something stupid. Without hesitation, without second-guessing, I pushed her back onto the bed, catching myself on my forearms so I wouldn’t crush her. Her breath hitched, and before she could say anything, I pressed my mouth to her throat.

She let out a strangled little sound, her fingers twisting in my hoodie, her back arching slightly.

I wasn’t thinking anymore. I wasn’t even breathing.

I dragged my mouth along her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin, slow and deliberate, feeling the way she trembled beneath me. I let my hands slide lower, my palms dragging down her sides, over the soft cotton of her shirt, down to the curve of her waist, the dip of her hips.

“Blake.”

My name. Whispered. Pleaded. Broken.

It sent a shockwave through me.

I dragged my mouth along her jaw, pressing against the spot just beneath her ear, sucking gently—just enough to feel her squirm.