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He covers my mouth with his in a searing kiss that I feel right down to my toes.
“Come on. I’ll make us that coffee.”
Over the next few days, I live in fear of men arriving unannounced at the house bearing engagement rings. I overhear Mom on the phone asking people about their unmarried sons and brothers. She’s got a list on her tablet, and she makes notes as she talks. How much this man earns. How long this one has been divorced.
If I don’t sign the marriage certificate, I can’t get married. I remind myself of this over and over. It’s not like Mom has any leverage over me apart from throwing me out of this house, and I’ve been half expecting that would happen anyway.
Everywhere I go in this house, I see Laz or am reminded of the night I spent with him. His voice rumbles from downstairs when I’m in my room. His scent lingers in the air when he’s not there. I often hear him whistling to himself or playing rock songs on the radio when he’s working on his car. There’s only one man on earth that I’d even consider marrying, and he’s married to someone else.
Miserably, I imagine a future in which I’m married as well, and Laz and I both sneak around behind our partners’ backs. I hate it. I’m already racked with guilt half the time, and I take no pleasure in knowing I’m stealing someone else’s man. Yet I can’t help wondering when I’ll next feel Laz’s powerful arms around me and his tongue in my mouth.
I’m in the middle of some history homework when my bedroom door opens and Laz enters. He’s wearing a loose dark gray shirt with his black jeans, and the soft fabric looks so good against his muscles and accentuates his strong throat.
I wonder if he’s about to tell me Mom’s set my wedding date when a heated smile slips over his lips. He’s here for something else.
Me.
Laz takes my hand, pulls me to my feet, and kisses me.
“What—”
“Your mom’s out,” he murmurs between hungry kisses.
Shit, shit, shit. This is so sordid. This is so messed up. But I can feel myself getting hot and wet as his hands rove over my body.
“You let me raw you, baby. You’re a risky bitch and that was so hot it’s all I can think about. I need to see you brimming with my cum again.”
“I’m not risky. I’m on the pill.”
He pulls back. “You’re on the what?”
“You heard me.”
“But you were a virgin.”
I shrug. “Plenty of women take the pill to regulate their periods. Plus, it stops my skin from breaking out.”
Laz frowns at me. “Stop taking it.”
I laugh, wondering if I heard him right. “What?”
“You heard me. I want to raw you properly.”
I glare up at him and hold up fingers as I speak. “One, are you crazy? Scratch that. You’re definitely crazy. Two, I could get pregnant. Three, are you freaking crazy?!”
He grins and hooks a finger into the neck of my T-shirt, dragging me closer. “That’s so sexy. SayI could get pregnantagain.”
I swat his hand away. “You’re not listening to me.”
“I hear you loud and clear, Bambi.” Laz lets go of me and starts going through the drawers in my bedside table. Then he moves on to my chest of drawers, pawing through my underwear and socks and feeling right to the back.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for your prescription so I can throw it out.”
I don’t keep my pills there, so I just fold my arms and watch him scattering panties about. As the minutes pass he grows increasingly annoyed.
Finally, he rounds on me. “Where are they?”
