They kiss like they’re still arguing.
Like it’s part fight, part fire.
Like all that anger just turned into something hotter.
I shouldn’t watch.
I really shouldn’t.
But I can’t move.
I feel like a ghost in the corner.
A voyeur.
Their silhouettes tangle against the brick wall. His hands at her waist. Hers in his hair. Breaths heavy and messy and alive. Tongues dueling. Hearts racing. She bites him.
Her nails dig into his arms.
He responds by hauling her up in his arms, her back still against the wall. There’s not a lick of space between them. Her legs wrap around his waist.
“I hat that you do this to me,” he grates out.
“I make you fucking , crazy?” She still teases.
“Insane.” He groans as his mouth finds the crook of her neck.
“Good. Don’t forget it. And next time never bring me somewhere where another girl has tasted you.”
“So, this really about Kate? This whole night? That guy—that stunt you pulled not so much about helping Beth?”
Her grin is sly. So beautiful I see the hint of evil in it.
“Maybe.”
“I hate you.”
“You love this. How I make you feel. So alive. That it burns.”
He grinds against her now. Hands in her hair as he takes her mouth with an angry passion.
It’s not sweet.
It’s not gentle.
It’s magnetic.
And my body reacts before my brain can stop it.
Heat.
Low. Dangerous.
My pulse racing.
My stomach flipping.
It’s awful.
