My hands lingered on the keys, and she reached out and set her hand on top of mine.
Warmth and light.
It invaded my senses. Clouded my judgment.
My hand flipped over, palm up, and she threaded her fingers through mine. Her head angled, so soft, this girl so fucking good.
“What is it you want, Zee? What is it you can’t have?
Flames leapt into that space between us. Alive and dancing and inciting.
A siren’s call.
My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I was shaking as I lifted our entwined hands.
I brushed my knuckles along the silky flesh of her cheek. I swore I saw the trail of pink it left behind, the simplest touch affecting this girl.
She released a shuddered breath. It mingled with mine.
Our mouths were close—too close—and our noses just touched as we hovered
in that space.
“I want things that will only ruin me, Alexis. But you…you make me want to wish for
them anyway. Make me believe there’s a chance that maybe they could belong to me.”
Tension tethered us, this rigid band that had me rocking in indecision, every second getting closer and closer as I fought the foolish ideas that tried to take root.
Giving in would only destroy me. But none of that seemed to matter when I leaned in and brushed my lips at the corner of her mouth.
Her fucking delicious mouth.
Because fuck. I just needed a taste. Something to take with me. Something to tuck away, even when doing it felt like some kind of brutal tease.
Alexis gasped at the contact. I edged back the barest fraction, and she was panting these tiny breaths.
Breaths I was breathing.
Her eyes locked on mine. Hungry and pleading. Brimming with belief and hope.
I ran my thumb over the corner of her mouth where my lips had just been.
“You are so beautiful. I’ve never met a girl quite like you.”
Something so genuine took hold of her expression. “I hardly know you…and somehow
you make me feel like I am. Like when you look at me…you see the person I always hoped I’d become.”
Everything stilled at her words.
At her confession.
Because that’s what I wanted.
For this amazing girl to know the way I saw her. That in her space, I felt something different from all the bullshit I’d dealt with for all my life.
I felt like someone different. Someone better. Like the person I’d once hoped I’d become.
I clutched her stunning face in my hands, searching for resolve. For that dedication that right then somehow felt out of reach.
“Zee,” she whispered.
That was all it took for that band to snap.
My hands drove into her hair. And my mouth? My mouth was devouring hers.
Frenzied in its demand. Pleading the same way as her eyes had been pleading with me. Saying all the things I couldn’t ever say.
Our tongues tangled, and my spirit coiled. Heat spread in a flashfire of need. Lust rose in the knitted air, like this intangible greed we both were grappling for, searching for the fastest way to get to the peak.
Our hands searched and clawed and explored. We were a mess of limbs as we struggled to get closer to each other where we sat side by side on the bench.
“Zachary…Zachary,” she whimpered, grasping me by the back of the head.
She crawled forward so she could straddle me.
My hands sank into her hips, and she edged up and pressed those gorgeous tits against the wild beat thundering in my chest. A groan rumbled out from somewhere in my
soul. She felt so perfect. So good.
I wanted to touch her. Explore her. Claim her.
My dick raged against its confines, all that delicious heat at the apex of her thighs grinding against my jean-covered cock.
It’d been too long. Too damned long. I was going out of my mind.
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A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad. Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU,
as well as the newest BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for the next installment STAND, coming Spring 2017. If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
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