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"Pretty girl," Julian warns, his approach slow and calculated as he closes the distance between us.
If I don't shower now, we're going to be late.
"I'm going," I say, taking a step back only for him to match my movement. "Julian."
My voice holds no warning at all. It comes out sultry and needy, and there's no doubt in my mind he didn't hear it too when that damn grin makes its appearance.
"Piper, my pretty girl, we are going to be so late."
I continue my retreat, my eyes locked with his, when I miscalculate where I am, bumping into the wall three feet to the left of the bathroom door. He's on me in the blink of an eye, capturing my lips as he lifts me off the ground.
"I have to shower," I protest, kissing him back.
"I know. You smell like me. We can't have that. I need my sunshine."
I let out a giggle that dies in my throat when he kisses my jaw. "You'll have to make it quick."
"Never." He tries to sound offended, but we both know it could be over in as little as five minutes if we want it to be.
"Julian."
Pulling back, he sets me on my feet and stares down at me. His eyes are filled with lust, his breathing deep and ragged.
"Please," I beg.
"What do you want, pretty girl?"
"You."
"How do you want me?"
I love when we play this game. Something about it turns me on.
"Fast and hard."
"And what do I get in return?" When I don't reply right away, he raises his brow at me, challenging me to say the words. "You know the deal, pretty girl. What do I get in return?"
"Me. All of me."
"Promise?"
His damn wicked grin is back. It makes me weak in the knees and unable to deny him.
"Promise."
Julian gives me exactly what I ask for. In the shower. And we are almost on time. Only I have to search for my underwear again because of his new fascination with flinging them around the room. I'm still searching when I catch sight of the envelope I was waving around earlier.
It's addressed to the Culinary Institute.
Opening the flap, I pull out the papers and find Julian's application for admission.
"Ignore that. I decided not to apply." Taking the envelope from my hands, he discards it in the trash can between his dresser and desk with more force than necessary.
"Why? I thought this was what you wanted. You seemed so excited about it. What changed?"
"Nothing. I'm just going to stick to the original plan. Graduate with my degree in business and take over the restaurant. I don't need to go to culinary school for that."
The words are clear and said with conviction. Anyone else might believe him, but not me. I can see the look in his eye. He's giving up his dream, and I have no idea why.
