Page 62 of Make Me Mean It

His fingers are still playing with the button of his jeans, and do something for me sounds considerably less innocent with them there.

My eyes drop to the slow movement of his thumb against the denim.

“What?” I manage, strained, Theo’s brow lifting.

His gaze lingers on mine before dropping pointedly to his own hand, still playing with the button of his jeans, and when he looks back up, his lips are already fighting a losing battle.

Fuck.

“Jesus Christ, Reid.” His laugh breaks out of him, my face burning before he’s even finished shaking his head. “I don’t mean suck my dick.”

“I would never-”

His palm lands against my cheek in a condescending little pat that makes violence feel entirely reasonable.

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles. “Save the denial for someone who cares.”

I slap his hand away, glaring at him while he grins back at me.

Theo shoves his jeans down, black denim giving way to snug black boxers and the unmistakable outline of his length pressing against them.

“Fucking hell,” I snap, turning towards the lake so quickly I nearly give myself whiplash.

Theo’s laugh carries across the space behind me, bright and completely shameless, while I fix my attention on the water and try very hard not to think about what I just saw.

Which obviously means I can think about nothing else.

Grass shifts behind me, Theo’s bare chest brushing my back, my shoulders tensing.

“Such a princess,” he hums beside my ear. “Can’t even look at me, huh?”

I spin around, planting my palm against his chest, ready to shove him away, but bare skin under my hand halts the plan somewhere between touching him and actually following through.

His chest rises beneath my palm, warm skin shifting against my fingers, and the fact that my hand is still there becomes impossible to ignore.

Theo looks down between us, and when his eyes return to mine, they’re dark. His chest pushes more firmly into my palm, forcing my elbow to bend as warm muscle shifts.

My fingers curl against his chest.

Swim with me,” he says quietly. “And maybe I’ll give you an answer.”

I swallow, painfully aware that I’m still touching him.

“To what?”

It leaves me embarrassingly close to a whisper, Theo’s eyes falling to my mouth.

“Anything.”

He steps closer again, his heart beating steadily beneath my palm, while mine is doing its best to punch straight through my ribs.

“Live a little, princess,” he says softly.

The challenge in his voice sinks beneath my skin.

I pull my hand away with an irritated huff and step back, catching the bottom of my hoodie and pulling it over my head.

“Good boy.”