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She’s captured me like a fish on a goddamn rod and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I’m hers again. There’s no doubt in my mind. There’s no fear, no pain, no anger, no fucking question. I’m hers if she’ll have me.
The music stops abruptly, snapping us both out of the moment and into the room once more. Neither of us make a move to walk away. We simply stand facing each other, our chests heaving, our breaths mingling. Sweat trickles down my back, sticking my t-shirt to my skin. The air vibrates with tension and the rest of the dancers remain silent as though they too understand the significance of this moment.
I lean towards Pen, my eyes closing as I press my cheek against her own, my shoulders drop, my arms reaching for her, my fingers digging into the skin of her back as I crush her to my chest.
“Titch,” I breathe against her ear.
“York,” she mutters back.
Her name is worshipful on my tongue, my name a mixture of relief and hope—but also fear—on hers. The fear worries me. I’ve seen too much of it in her as of late and I need to know the source. I was blinkered before, telling myself I didn’t care. But I do. I fucking do.
Zayn was right. He said out loud what we’veallbeen thinking. Pen might have betrayed us. She might have walked away, but there’s more to it than that.
Much, much more, and we were too fucking stupid not to see it.
My grip tightens, and I feel her arms close around me as a deep sigh releases from her chest.
“Well, thank you both. What an intelligent display of hate versus love. Two sides of the same coin. However, that’s it for today,” Sasha interrupts, her voice sharp. “We can pick this up in the next lesson.”
Around us the other dancers begin to murmur, but none of them walk away, too enthralled by what’s happening between me and Pen. They want to see what happens next, just as much as I want to experience it.
Not able to help myself, I press my lips against her ear, revelling in the way her body shivers in my arms. I should pull away, but I don’t. My lips drag over her cheek before resting against the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t move, in fact her fingers grip hold of me tighter and I can’t help it, a smile pulls at my lips.
She wants me as much as I want her. Zayn might have got to her first just like when we were kids, but I was the one who brought her into the fold. I was the one who found her beneath that oak tree. I’d known from the moment she slipped her hands into mine that she would be ours. I didn’t fucking hesitate then, and I refuse to do so now.
With that memory swirling inside my head, I kiss her roughly, hungrily. She gasps, her lips parting with the sound, her body pressing harder against mine as I grasp the back of her neck and tug at the strands of hair there. She whimpers, her tongue stroking against mine and I take that as an open invitation to continue. So I do. I kiss her desperately, not giving a shit who’s in the room with us. Not caring about the surprised laughter or the shocked gasps.
Not giving two single fucks.
My tongue laps into her mouth as I haul her against my chest, lifting her off the floor. She might still be the same height as she was when we were teenagers, but fuck she’s all woman now. I want to explore every sexy, curvy, inch of her.
“My Titch,” I mutter against her mouth.
“I think you should take this somewhere else,” Sasha interrupts, but I barely hear her over the rushing and pulsing of blood in my ears. Pen, however, pushes against my chest and unlocks her lips from mine.
“York, we should go,” she whispers, her cheeks suffused with heat, and not just from our kiss.
Pressing a kiss against her forehead, I lower her to the floor, but keep an arm latched around her shoulder so that she’s still pressed against me to hide my erection as much as her embarrassment.
Locking my gaze with Sasha, I nod. “Yeah, and I was thinking we could practice some more.”
“York!” Pen hisses, pressing her forehead against my chest and groaning.
“This is my studio, and just like the rest of the students have, I’d like you both to leave.”
“That might be an issue…” I allow my voice to trail off and my gaze lower to where Pen’s so tightly pressed up against me.
Sasha shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Fucking horny teenagers,” she grouses, giving me the death-glare over Pen’s head.
“I’m not a teenager,” I counter, smirking. She wouldn’t have made a pass at me if I was, and she fucking knows it.
“Then stop acting like one. Now, get out of my studio and be thankful that I’m so impressed by your interpretation skills today that I’ve decided not to chuck you both out of my class for good.”
Pen turns in my arms, her cheeks suffused with pink. I can’t help it. I grind my dick against her back, silently telling her that I’m all man now. She chokes on a laugh and the sound of joy in her voice, however brief, makes me harder. I’ve dreamt about that sound for years.
“I apologise, it won’t happen again,” she says.
“Hmm,” Sasha responds, flicking her gaze up to mine.
“I wouldn’t count on that.” I smirk again, winking at Sasha who rolls her eyes.
“Fucking children,” she mutters, before turning her back on us both.
Taking that as our final cue to get the fuck out of her studio, I grab Pen’s hand, and pull her along the hallway, ignoring the stares and whispered comments of the other students we pass by. Clancy’s standing by the doorway that leads up to the stairwell of our flats. She sees us coming and with a huge grin plastered across her face, pushes the door open.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she grins, winking at Pen.
