Page 221

Sienna has an uncanny ability to piece things together, usually long before anyone else has even realized there’s a puzzle to solve. Seriously, that girl should consider becoming a detective. She’d probably have half the town’s unsolved mysteries wrapped up before lunchtime.

My shoulders finally relax as I take another look around the classroom. Nobody else seems to have noticed a thing. I suppose I should have given Milo a little more credit. He knows better than anyone what his stepsister is capable of, and as much as he enjoys tormenting me, he’d never risk giving her another reason to come after me.

So, instead of fighting him, I allow myself to lean back until the ends of my hair brush against his desk again. Without taking my eyes off Mrs. Whitaker, I discreetly reach one hand back along the side of my chair. Milo catches it almost immediately, threading his fingers through mine.

Relief unfurls through my chest.

It’s the strangest thing, being in love. Milo is sitting right behind me, close enough to touch, and somehow it still isn’t close enough. I want to turn around and look at him. I want his arms around me. I want to kiss him until everything around us fades away. Apparently, being in love means developing an entirely unreasonable need to be near someone, even when they’re already right there.

When the bell rings we reluctantly let go of each other’s hands and return to pretending we’re nothing more than two classmates who barely know each other.

I walk out of the classroom with my textbooks hugged against my chest, acutely aware of Milo walking behind me. I’m praying my cheeks aren’t nearly as red as they feel when his hand brushes the small of my back as he passes me in the hallway.

The touch is so fleeting that anyone watching would probably miss it.

I certainly don’t.

My eyes follow him as he disappears around the corner, but not before he glances back and tilts his head, silently telling me to follow.

Instead of stopping at my locker to grab my books for the next class, I find myself going after him. When I round the corner, I catch a glimpse of Milo slipping into an empty classroom.

This is risky. What the hell is he thinking?

Better question. What the hell am I thinking, following him?

Apparently, not much, because my feet have already made the decision for me.

I glance up and down the hallway, making sure nobody is watching, before slipping inside and quietly closing the door behind me.

Milo is leaning against a desk, wearing that cheeky grin of his that tells me he’s entirely too pleased with himself.

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“Come here.”

I barely make it two steps before he hooks his fingers into my waistband and tugs me into the space between his legs. His mouth finds mine before I can get another word out, my textbooks tumbling to the floor as I throw my arms around his neck.

“I couldn’t go another second without doing that,” he murmurs against my mouth.

“You kissed me just this morning.”

“That was two fucking hours ago,” he retorts, leaning in for another kiss.

I laugh, but the sound quickly fades when his tongue slides into my mouth, his fingers clutching the fabric of my leggings over my ass as he presses me against him. I feel his cock harden with just one kiss, and it inundates my mind with all the filthy, wonderful things we’ve gotten up to lately.

Sure, it probably took us longer than most couples to sleep with each other, but damn, have we made up for lost time since then. Now that we’ve had a taste of each other, neither of us seems capable of keeping our hands to ourselves.

Case in point, Milo’s hand slides under my oversized sweater to cup my breast, his deft fingers eager to play with my sensitive bud. I let out a soft whimper when he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, coaxing my thighs to press together just to relieve the ache building there.

“Milo,” I moan. “We can’t do this here. Someone might walk in and catch us.”

“I don’t care,” he mutters, using his other hand to grab the nape of my neck and deepen the kiss.

My mind becomes hazy with the sensation as his other hand slides down my waistband, into my panties.

“Milo,” I try to scold, but it only comes out like a breathless moan.

“I just need to see you come. Just once,” he says, his voice sounding like he’s in pain.