He places it back on the fridge and taps it. “Where’d you get this?”

I look at the magnet and then back at him. The last thing I want to do is tell him that magnet came from Atlas on my sixteenth birthday. It would only bring up an already sore subject, and I’m too excited for what’s about to come next between us to give him the naked truth right now.

I shrug. “I can’t remember. I’ve had it forever.”

He stares at me silently and then straightens up, taking two steps toward me. I back myself against the counter and my breath catches. His hands meet my waist and he slides them between my ass and my jeans and pulls me against him. His mouth claims mine and he kisses me while he begins to lower my jeans.

Okay. So we’re doing this right now.

His lips drag down my neck as I kick off my shoes and then he pulls my jeans off the rest of the way.

I guess I can eat later. Christening the kitchen just became my priority.

When his mouth is back on mine, he lifts me and sets me down on the countertop, standing between my knees. I can smell the scotch on his breath, and I kind of like it. I’m already breathing heavily as his warm lips slide across mine. He takes a fistful of my hair and he tugs gently so that I’m looking up at him.

“Naked truth?” he whispers, looking at my mouth like he’s about to devour me.

I nod.

His other hand begins to slide slowly up my thigh until there’s nowhere left for his hand to go. He slips two warm fingers inside of me, keeping my gaze locked with his. I suck in a rush of air as my legs tighten around his waist. I begin to slowly move against his hand, moaning softly as he stares heatedly at me.

“Where did you get that magnet, Lily?”

What?

My heart feels like it begins beating in reverse.

Why does he keep asking me this?

His fingers are still moving inside of me, his eyes still look like they want me. But his hand. The hand that’s wrapped in my hair begins to tug harder and I wince.

“Ryle,” I whisper, keeping my voice calm, even though I’m beginning to shake. “That hurts.”

His fingers stop moving, but his gaze never leaves mine. He slowly pulls his fingers out of me and then brings his hand up around my throat, squeezing gently. His lips meet mine and his tongue dives inside my mouth. I take it, because I have no idea what’s going through his head right now and I pray I’m overreacting.

I can feel him hard against his jeans as he presses into me. But then he pulls back. His hands leave me entirely as he flattens his back against the refrigerator, scraping his eyes over my body like he wants to take me right here in the kitchen. My heart begins to calm down. I’m overreacting.