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His hand stroked my cheek and made me to close my eyes, to involuntarily lean into the touch. The tenderness of his caress and the gentleness of his voice worked together to help burn away some of the rage that was flaring inside of me. It had been so long since anyone had touched me in a gentle, caring way, and it felt nice. Too nice.

I expected him to keep at it, to keep questioning me, but instead, he surprised me yet again.

“If you don't want to talk about it, fine,” he said softly. “But, if someone is hurting you, we have your back. I want you to know that you're not alone.”

His words, spoken so gently, soothed me. It brought me comfort and made me feel safe, which was something I hadn't felt with a man in a very long time.

“Thank you,” I whispered, opening my eyes to meet his gaze.

His face was so close to mine and I felt his breath on my cheek. He leaned in closer, and before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine. Like I had before with Quinn, I wanted to fight back. To push him away. My fists were on his chest, but instead of pushing him, I found myself pulling at his shirt. Pulling him toward me.

I clumsily stepped up on the stair behind me and he followed. His tongue danced in my mouth, literally stealing my breath away. In the other room, my mom said something to my dad that made him laugh, and their voices made the both of us jump, startled that someone might catch us. But my parents were still in the den, shut away from us.

Still that didn't make the feeling that we were horny teenagers sneaking into my bedroom under my parent's noses all over again, diminish in the least.

“Cason, I can't get involved with you,” I said. “I can't be involved with anybody.”

“That's alright,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “There's no rush.”

My body, on the other hand, was working against my brain. Looking into his eyes, I felt my resolve melting away, falling down like rain all around us. My hands were still on his chest and our faces were still close.

“Would you like to step outside and talk for a bit?” he asked.

“Want me to be honest with you?” I giggled, sounding like a schoolgirl

“Always be honest with me, Hailey,” he said, his deep voice sounding more serious than usual. “Tell me whatever it is you want from me.”

I leaned in, and while the urge to kiss him again was strong, I moved toward his ear instead. I whispered into his ear the words I'd always wanted to say to one of the McCormick men.

“I'd much rather take you upstairs and fuck you,” I said, feeling a little squeamish for admitting the truth.

My stomach tossed and turned, and for a second, I thought I might be sick again. Thankfully, the feeling passed quickly and the fires of passion between my thighs ignited, burning bright and out of control. Cason's eyes were wide, a salacious grin on his handsome face.

“Let's go,” he said, taking my hand in his.

As I took his hand and we headed upstairs, but a wave of fear washed over me. I stopped and when he looked at me, I shook my head. What was I doing?

“I'm sorry. I can't, Cason,” I said, glancing down toward the den. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Is it because your parents are home?” he asked.

I nodded. It wasn't the only reason, but it was as good a scapegoat as any at the moment. Biting my bottom lip, I stared into his deep, brown eyes and kicked myself for stopping. I wanted Cason with my whole body. But in my heart, I knew stopping was the right thing to do.

He came down the steps toward me and took my face in his big, strong hands. He stared down at me with eyes that were full of desire and yet kind and compassionate at the same time.

“You just say the word, Hailey Roberts,” he said. “Whenever you're ready, I'm more than happy to carry you upstairs and fuck your brains out.”

My knees grew weak. I stared back down at the den, then back at Cason. My sixteen-year-old self would kill me if I let Cason get away this easily, and it had been so long since someone - anyone - had looked at me the way he did.

I leaned into him and whispered into his ear, “Let's do it.”

Cason pushed me up the stairs, and although my mind screamed, asking me what in the hell I was doing, I didn't protest this time. I could feel him pressing himself into me, his erection hard and ready.

I wanted him bad.

I'd wanted him since the first time we got paired up in biology class. When the teacher announced that we'd be working together, and our eyes met over the lab table, I thought my heart was going to explode right then and there. I wasn't sure I'd survive the semester. I'd fantasized about him countless times, wishing I could say something. Wishing he'd ask me out.

Now, there we were, walking upstairs to my bedroom. My childhood bedroom with my parents were downstairs and everything. It felt like I was back in high school all over again, living out one of my fantasies. There was no way I could resist.

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