SUMMER
I WAKE up to fingertips on my cheek.
They walk a line on my face, one after the other. So light, I could almost believe it’s not happening.
But it is. I remember everything before I fell asleep. Seeing Whit. Bringing him to my room. Stripping in front of him—still can’t believe I did that— getting so pissed at him. He knows how to take something good and twist it into something awful. He self-destructs, and takes everyone else down with him.
It’s a horrible trait. But he’s a horrible person, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
He doesn’t seem so horrible right now though. I can feel his gaze on my face, heavy. Hungry. He touches the corner of my mouth. Skims my bottom lip.
Tingles rush through me and I’m tempted to part my lips, draw his finger inside and suck. That would surprise him. He’d probably love it.
That reason alone is enough for me not to do it. I’m still mad at him.
He touches my chin. Pinches it. As if he’s trying to wake me up and he’s frustrated it’s not working. My eyes pop open to find him watching me, his lips curled into a faint smile, his eye nearly a slit, the bruises around it even worse. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” he croons.
“Get out of my bed,” I tell him evenly.
“You’re the one who asked me to get into your bed in the first place,” he reminds me.
“Your invitation expired. Go away.” I’m about to roll over and show my back to him but he grabs hold of my shoulder, stopping me.
“You fell asleep.” He gently tugs, his grip strong, and I have no choice but to roll over onto my back. He scoots closer, hovering above me and I glare at him, hoping he can’t hear my heartbeat, which is currently racing. Or see how my breathing starts to accelerate at his nearness.
He’s in my bed. Naked. I can feel his body heat. I’m fully clothed, but naked beneath the hoodie and sweats. It would take nothing for him to strip me bare and have his way with me.
And I’d let him. Despite what happened earlier, when Elliot nearly attacked me. Despite the anger and the bitterness and the loathing I feel toward this boy in my bed right now, even though he saved me, I’d kill to know what it feels like, to have Whit Lancaster inside of me. Claiming me.
Making me his.
“Why did you take care of me?” he asks, his voice firm. Cold. He sounds more like himself. Earlier, he showed weakness. He was feeling low. Who wouldn’t, after getting into a fight in the middle of a thunderstorm?
I shrug one shoulder but don’t say anything.
He shifts closer, lowering his head near mine. “Answer me.”
“I couldn’t leave you out there alone.” I lift my chin, hoping he doesn’t notice it’s trembling. “Just like you couldn’t leave me.”
“You should’ve left me. I treat you like dog shit,” he states matter-of-factly. “Yet you brought me into your room. Cleaned me up. Dried my clothes.”
I stare at him defiantly, any words I could say are stuck in my throat. I have no answer for him.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, lifting a single brow. I watch him, wary. Silent.
“You’re stunning, do you know that?” His voice softens and he moves his hand toward my hair, making me flinch. He ignores it, stroking my hair away from my forehead, his gaze thoughtful as he stares at me. “You try to hide it, but there’s no use. You’re fucking beautiful, and it frustrates the shit out of me, Savage.”
Now it’s shock that’s rendering me speechless. He thinks I’m fucking
beautiful?
“It doesn’t matter what I do, you don’t back down. Any other person would’ve broke by now. It’s like I can’t break you, and that frustrates me too.” His fingers go still. “What’s happening in that mind of yours right now? What are you thinking? The same thing I am?”
I’m thinking I want him to never stop touching me.
“You stared me right in the eyes when you took off your clothes in front of me earlier, like you didn’t give a fuck.” He leans in, his cheek next to mine, and inhales. “All that smooth skin. Pink nipples begging for my mouth. Long legs I can imagine wrapped around my hips. Your body is all I can think about.”
I close my eyes and he grabs my chin, shaking my face. “Open your eyes,” he demands.
I do as he says, quaking. A shuddery breath escapes me. “Do I scare you?” he whispers.
Deciding to be truthful, I nod.
“Good,” he breathes across my lips, his mouth so close to mine, I can feel it move when he talks. “Because you scare me too.”
The words hang between us, suspended in air, his mouth resting on mine, our gazes locked. His lips move, capturing my top lip between his and giving it a little tug. A sigh escapes me, bone-deep, my eyes falling closed. This is what I’ve been waiting for. What I’ve wanted since I saw him again. This.
This.
This.
He kisses me, his mouth seeking, his hand moving from my chin to cup the side of my face. I lean into his palm, needing to feel him, to feel something, anything. Whatever he can give me, I’ll take.
His lips slowly work their magic, clinging to mine, soft, teasing kisses that surprise me. I open for his tongue, a gasp escaping me when he licks at my lips before sliding it into my mouth to meet mine. Our tongues touch. Dance. He shifts closer, lying halfway across me and I worry about him. Press my hands on his shoulders to push him off of me.
“Your ribs,” I whisper against his mouth, but he swallows my words, the sound of our lips connecting again and again the only thing I can hear. I become lost in the sound, his taste, squirming beneath him, wishing I could get closer. Wanting to be as close to him as physically possible.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says at one point, his hand going for the hem of my hoodie. “Take this off.”
He shifts to the side, helping me remove it. I’m braless, and his gaze goes straight to my breasts when the hoodie is gone. He kisses my neck. My collarbone. My chest. My nipples are so hard they hurt, and I arch my back, desperate to feel his mouth on them. He chuckles against my skin, I’m sure he can sense my neediness and he licks one nipple, making me cry out.
“Too loud, Savage,” he whispers. “Might have to muzzle you if you keep that up.”
“Put your hand over my mouth to keep me quiet,” I tell him and he lifts away from me so we’re face to face.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He cocks a brow.
I like the idea of Whit’s hand covering my mouth. I don’t know why. He brings out something in me. He makes me want things I would normally never suggest, especially out loud.
