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Until there was nothing but the pure, raw truth of my feelings for this boy.
“Kace…”
I repeated his name, my voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper.
But before I could say anything else, he silenced me, pressing forward with a kiss that I couldn’t resist.
Not even if I tried.
Not even if I wanted to.
But I didn’t want to.
Twelve
The banked fire that always smoldered between us burst into a roaring inferno, and Kace ne
arly bent me over backward with his fierce, consuming kiss. My back arched, my legs going weak as I clung to his shoulders to keep myself grounded. His hands skated over my ribs, my waist, my hips, twisting the fabric of my skirt as his fingers dug into the rounded curve of my ass.
A second later, I was lifted and deposited on the edge of the sink, and the position was so familiar, so reminiscent of the first time Kace had made me come in the boys’ bathroom, that my clit throbbed at the remembered sensations.
Then Kace settled between my legs, and all the memories fled from my mind, replaced with the visceral sensations of the here and now.
He ground against me, his cock already hard and seeking my wet heat, his mouth devouring mine with such raw need that neither one of us could catch a full breath.
When he finally tore his lips away from mine to trail them over my jaw and down my neck, I tilted my head back, staring up at the cracked, water-stained ceiling without really seeing it.
Only when his hand slipped between us, shoving up my skirt and tearing at the fabric of my leggings, did some measure of rational thought return to my mind.
We were in the boys’ bathroom at Slateview High.
A public room with a door that didn’t lock.
“Kace,” I gasped, my hands gripping fistfuls of his short blond hair. “Door!”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he muttered against my skin, his breath making goose bumps rise on my neck.
Another protest tried to work its way out of my mouth, but when he pulled my earlobe between his teeth and bit down, the jolt of sweet sensation made me forget what the hell I’d been about to say.
Maybe I don’t give a fuck either.
I rolled my hips against him, tilting my head to offer him more—more of anything he wanted to take.
But he drew back, leaving me staring at him, panting and breathless.
He gazed at me for several heartbeats, possessiveness and lingering violence swirling behind his green irises.
“I lied,” he grunted, his expression hard. “I do give a fuck. Nobody gets to see you like this but me.”
With those words, he scooped me up into his arms and turned, carrying me toward the door.
I knew this from last time too, knew that he wasn’t about to march me out into the hall like this. And sure enough, when we reached the door, he set me down right in front of it, using our bodies to block it closed.
His hand trailed down my jaw before two fingers tilted my chin up, and even that movement was infused with a controlled sort of violence, like it was taking all of his self-restraint to be gentle with me at all.
“We won’t let them in, Princess. No one will get in here.” His eyes were hooded as he dragged his plump lower lip between his teeth. “I’ll fuck you so hard against this door, no one will ever get in.”
Oh, God.
