I kiss her again, deeper this time, my tongue tracing her bottom lip before I pull away. I’m not trying to shut her up, not really. I’m just trying to calm her down. “Forget him,” I say against her mouth.
“Sometimes he does this thing like he’s talking to someone invisible or pushes his ears but, everyone has their quirkiness…” she persists, her hands coming up to rest on my chest.
I smile against her lips. “My quirk is that I want to be inside you again, right now. We all have our things.”
She hits my chest playfully. “I’m serious, Jax!”
I kiss her again, slower this time, savoring it. Her resolve is melting, I can feel it in the way her fingers curl into my shirt. But she’s not done yet. “I did ask him about his dog, you know?” she whispers, and I can hear the frustration in her voice. “He said it just ran away. Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s best if I stay away…”
I pull back, looking her dead in the eye. “His dog didn’t run away. And you are not going near him again. That’s already been decided.”
Then I’m on her again, my mouth slanting over hers, my hands sliding down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against me. She kisses me back for a moment, lost in it, before she wrenches her head to the side, panting. “Jax,” she gasps. “You’re not even listening to me.”
I grin. “I’m listening. I’m just multitasking.”
I kiss her again, my teeth nipping at her lower lip, my hands roaming under the hem of her dress, tracing the warm skin of her leg. She moans, a small, helpless sound that goes straight to my dick.
“Stop it,” she says, but it’s weak. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”
“Serious is overrated,” I trail kisses down her neck.
“Pitfire, you’re impossible,” she breathes, her hands tangling in my hair.
“Impossible for you to resist,” I correct her, my voice smug.
She shoves at my chest, not hard, just enough to make me take a step back. “No. I’m serious. This is serious.”
“Okay,” I say, holding my hands up. “You win. Let’s talk.”
I push off the wall and spin around, hopping my ass onto the teacher’s desk. I grab her hand, pulling her between my legs until she’s flush against me. I wrap my arms around her waist, locking her in.
“Alright,” I say, my voice serious now. “Spit it out. What else did the freak do?”
“He told me he found something days ago and wanted to show it to me,” she says, her eyes fixed on the collar of my shirt. “So I asked him about it, asked him to bring it to school, whatever… he kept not answering, changing subjects, saying I had to go see it for myself.” She looks up at me. “Pretty sure he just wanted me to go to his place.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“I know… don’t look at me like that,” she says, a little defensive. “I don’t know.”
A disbelieving grin spreads across my face. “Damn. Fucking nerd has game.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Alright,” I say, cutting through the bullshit before she drowns in it. “This is our senior night, enough of this shit. Do you know what we need?” I say, trying to distract her before she spirals deeper.
She glances over, guarded. “A gun?”
“Close,” I say, my hands coming up to frame her face. “A dance.”
She blinks. “You’re joking.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I grab her hand. “You’re the one who said dancing shuts up the world. Well, the world is being a loudmouth bastard right now. So dance with me.”
She’s still looking at me. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Perfect. Neither am I. Let’s be miserable together on the dance floor.”
“One song. And don’t step on my foot.”
