“I’m sorry, Abigail. I just worry about you—”
“There you are,” Izzie called out from the porch. “I was wondering where you went.”
“Oh…” I faltered. “I… I just needed some air.”
She swiped at her hair as she inched closer. “The bugs are awful.”
Funny, I hadn’t even noticed them. “Yeah, I should probably go back in before they eat me alive.”
“I should go too,” Gavin broke in. “Always a pleasure, Izzie.”
She shot him a flat smile, the kind you bestow on people you don’t like much. As soon as he was off, she ripped into me. “What were you doing talking to him? He was holding your hand… I saw.”
My pulse quickened, and I struggled to even out my breathing. “He… my dad asked him to keep an eye out for me.”
“Really?” She swiped at another mosquito. “I thought your dad hated him.”
I shrugged. “Me too.”
“C’mon.” She took my arm. “Let’s go back in.”
“Actually, I’m gonna head home. I need to study for exams.”
She rolled her eyes. “You and your studying.”
I waved goodbye, and as I started on my way, I wondered if little white lies were as bad as the big ones. A lie was a lie.
When he swungthe door open, I pressed myself against him without hesitation. He closed the door behind us, and grabbed my ass as he pushed me up against him. He turned on his heel and shoved me against the wall. I loved it when he got a little rough with me. He was so passionate, so worked up. I liked the idea of working him up, of filling him with desire.
He tore his mouth from mine. “You’ve been a bad girl,” he breathed.
I raked my hands through his thick hair. “I know.”
He slid his mouth across mine again. “You taste like weed.”
“Then why are you still kissing me?”
His hands traveled down my body. “Because I can’t help myself.” When he buried his hand between my legs and slithered them slowly up, my lower belly tightened at the sensation. I finally understood sexual arousal, and I wanted more. I desperately wanted him to touch me there.
And when he finally did, my whole body surrendered to him, welcoming him in. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his touch, but he pulled away, teasing. “You’re definitely ready,” he breathed against my ear.
My eyes searched for his, my mouth ached for his kiss.
“But you’re still too young,” he said softly. “How old are you now?”
I bit my bottom lip, and quickly did the math. “Seventeen, four months or so.”
He raked a hand through my hair and combed it back. He then pressed down the folds of my skirt, making me presentable again. “Come back in about eight months or so,” he said with a teasing wink.
I exhaled a long breath, knowing it was no use trying to change his mind or seduce him. He was a strong man, physically and emotionally, and his integrity was steadfast. It was, ironically, one of the reasons I liked him so much.
I turned on my heel. “I’ll be back.”
He grinned. “Later, kid.”
I turned to him. “Can you make me a promise?”
He raised a brow. “Depends what it is, kid.”
“The day I turn eighteen, you promise never to call me ‘kid’ again. I kinda hate it.”
He laughed. “I’ll try. Can’t make any promises.”
I smiled at him as I turned to the door, my heart heavy, and my panties moist.
