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I shoot up, wrapping a hand around her throat and dipping my forehead into hers. “You threatening me?”
She gasps, grabbing my wrist with both hands, but I see the smile peek out on her face. She doesn’t fight me.
“We’re getting close!” they shout outside. “Aren’t we?”
But I look down, seeing her bare stomach in her little shirt. I run my hand down her chest and slip a finger under her hem, pausing to see if she resists. When she doesn’t, I move my finger back and forth, inching the shirt up and over her breasts.
My cock strains against my jeans as I take in the outline of her. I need more light. Fuck, I need to touch her.
“Look what I got in my family,” I taunt. “It would be so easy. Our parents wouldn’t think twice about us being alone together anytime we want.”
She pulls me by the back of my neck, trying to get me down. “They’re coming. I hear them.”
I want to come down on her. I want her skin against mine. “I can’t.”
“It’s just pretend.”
“I can’t.”
I’ve gone too far already. She’s going to hate me for what I’ve already done, and Kade will never let me forget this.
“It’s just pretend,” she begs again.
I feel myself between her legs, and she lifts a knee, her skate banging against the seat. I groan, knowing the only thing keeping me from being inside of her is our clothes.
“Dylan…” I plead. “Please.”
She rolls her hips, her breasts flashing in the moonlight, and fuck…
I drop down, opening my mouth, but…
I stop, hovering over her nipple by just a hair.
I lift my hand, about to cup her at last, but I pull back before I do. Sweat covers my forehead, and she drops her hands again, caressing my stomach.I can’t. We can’t.I want to, but she wants him. I can’t do this.
Her breathing slows, and her body calms.
“You know, it’s funny...” She glides her nails up and down my stomach. “Kade is so ticklish,” she says.
I open my eyes, just realizing they were closed.
“You don’t grow up with someone and not know that,” she tells me. “I could never touch him like this without it being torture for him.”
Her fingertips trickle over my skin, and I go still, a chill sweeping through the car.
“Hunter isn’t ticklish at all,” she points out. “Not here anyway.” She rubs her thumbs over my abs.
I growl and push up, but she catches me, circling my waist with her arms. “Why did you do that?” she asks me, looking up into my face with a crack in her voice.
She knew? She knew the whole time? I think back to when she started touching me there. She must’ve realized then.
“Why?” she demands.
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
I try to pry her arms off me. “Let go.”
