“You want to know why I care about your well-being?” I put my other palm on the wall. Her breath hitches. “Because from the minute I got back to town, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. You drive me out of my fucking mind.” I touch her cheek, waiting for her to yell at me. When she doesn’t, I think this might be a dream. Something I’ll only have for a few seconds, and I don’t want to waste it. “And I wish you would stop.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re doingeverything.”
“Then why are you still here?” Quincy whispers, her hands on my chest. The shove I expect never comes. Instead, fingers curl in the cotton of my shirt until she has a fistful of the fabric in her grip. She pulls me closer, our lips inches apart. “Why didn’t you leave with everyone else, Sebastian?”
“Because you don’t want me to leave.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Prove it. Say the words, and I’ll go.”
Time stands still, and I wait.
She’s going to pull away. Shehasto pull away, or I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Kiss her?
Carry her to the couch and show her how much I fucking care?
Quincy licks her lips. She lifts her hand. Her palm shakes before she places it on the back of my neck, and I almost groan. My entire body shudders at the press of her fingers. At the slow drag of her nails at the top of my spine. One touch, and I’m fucking addicted.
“I lied. I don’t want you to leave,” she whispers. “I …” The syllable cracks. She dips her head, trying to hide, and I hook my fingers around her chin.
“Look at me, Quincy, and tell me what you want.”
Her long eyelashes flutter closed. I’ve never wanted something as badly as I want her, and the silence is agonizing.
“I want you, Sebastian,” she finally says, eyes blinking open, and they’ll go down as the four most dangerous words of my entire fucking life.
“Are you sure?” I trace the curve of her jaw. Gently, patiently while need pulses in my blood. “Tell me you’re sure.”
“I don’t know why, but I’m sure that I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”
I drop my hand to her hip, tugging her flush against me until we’re perfectly aligned. “No tricks.” I kiss the corner of her mouth. She melts into me when I drag my knuckles over the sliver of exposed skin I find below the hem of her shirt. “No games.”
“One time,” she tells me, adding her own set of rules. “Just one time, so I can get rid of this … this pull I’m feeling toward you. I hate it. I hate it so much. I want it to go away.”
“Do you think one time is going to fix that?” I put my palms on her ass, lifting her off the ground. Her legs circle my waist, heels pressing into the small of my back. “When I’m finished with you, you’re going to be begging for more.”
“In your dreams.”
“I have a lot of dreams. More as of late, and you should hear the things I do to you in them. The places I fuck you. The places I touch you.” I bend my neck, mouth almost on hers. “Be honest, Quincy. If you didn’t like me, you wouldn’t be practically moaning my name.”
“I hate you.”
“Tell me how much. You have to know it turns me on.” I run a hand up her leg. I kiss her throat, sucking on the skin below her ear. I whisper a laugh when she whines and squirms in my hold. “You don’t hate me at all.”
“You said no games, but this is a game.” Quincy runs her fingers through my hair. Grabs some of the longer strands and gives them a tug that makes me hiss. “Are we playing or not, Sebastian?”
“Oh, we’re playing, Quinny baby.”
“Yeah?” Another defiant glance. A coy smile that tells me I was stupid to think I was in control. “Then I dare you to kiss me.”
“For the record, I would’ve kissed you without the dare.” My nose bumps hers. I count all the freckles on her face—fourteen. Fourteen maddening little marks. “But fuck it. This is more fun.”
I crash my mouth against hers, slipping a hand behind her head and pressing her into the wall. Her nails dig into my shoulders. Her legs tighten around me like she’s afraid I’m going to walk away, but I’m just getting started.
