32

Bay

“Dare, do you want to sleep with me?” I propped my head up on my arm. My bedroom had inched up at least a degree from every minute we were in here together.

The pencil dropped out of his hand, rolling across his notebook and onto the floor.

“Bay.” There was a teasing warning to his voice.

“Dare.” I mimicked his tone. “I’d expected us to do it at the prom.”

“I didn’t do that to sleep with you.”

I crawled across my bed and onto his lap. “Then why did you do it? You know we have less than a week left of senior year.”

Tugging his shirt up, my breath hitched. Since it seemed nothing was going to change his mind about slowing things down, I was going to have to go after it myself.

“Because you were too stubborn to let me take you to the actual prom.”

He didn’t fight me as my fingers skimmed his torso, dragging his shirt along with my creeping touch.

“It was too expensive.” And there were too many eyes. On Dare’s arm, everyone would know my name, but not on my terms.

He let me drag his shirt up and over his head.

I let it fall to the floor. My heart pounded in my throat, a drum beat in cadence with the throb between my legs. The ache kept growing with every second his hands weren’t on me.

His head tilted to the side, observing my every move like a documentarian not wanting to interfere. Only I wanted him to interfere. I wanted him to do more than interfere. I wanted him.

Inching forward, I settled my hips right over his. The bulge in his jeans told me I was headed in the right direction. Maybe he only needed a little nudge.

I rested my elbows on his shoulders with my hands on the back of his head, raking my nails across his scalp.

His head dropped back and he groaned.

“You’re making this hard as hell, Bay.”

I swiveled my hips, drawing another groan from his lips. “That’s sort of the point.” Grinning, I kissed the bottom of his chin, peppering his jawline with kisses.

His arms wrapped around my back, squeezing me tight and hugging me close.

My mouth marauding continued, first to his ear, then down the side of his neck to the front of his chest. Each change in location drove his hands higher up my back. With a flick of his wrist, my bra was unsnapped.

I reached down between us to undo his jeans.

His fingers pressed hard against my spine, anchoring me in place.

Looking up, I stared into his eyes. They were a beautiful chaos of conflicting emotions and a storm of desire brewing. Now I just needed to make it rain.

Taking matters into my own hands, I ripped my shirt off and dropped it to the floor beside his.

His nostrils flared and his gaze dropped to the swell of my breasts covered by the now-loosened bra. Tracing a meandering path up my back, he reached my shoulders and flicked down the straps.