Page 59 of If You Dare

The operator sticks us in the next empty pod, and the silence is suffocating.

My heart pounds as we rise slowly. God, I hope we don’t get stuck at the top. This night could not have gone any worse.

Wes wraps a protective arm around my shoulders, and I’m instantly enveloped in his scent, his warmth. “You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You’re the last person I want to comfort me right now. I would suggest scooting as far away from me as you can because I might puke.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the nausea in my belly will go away if I can’t see how high up we are. If I forget about Wes’s horrified face when I moved in to kiss him.No.

His fingers brush my cheek, forcing my face toward his. “Look at me.”

Even though the last thing I want to do is see him, the rejection and pity etched into his features more nauseating than the ground far below our feet, I do as he says.

He pulls me closer, the side of my body flush against his. He’s so warm, smelling deliciously of cedarwood, and I want to get lost in the smell and feel of him. His blue eyes bore into mine, and he cradles my jaw, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my cheek.

“Just keep your eyes on me and you won’t feel scared.”

My chest caves in, wanting nothing more than to let him comfort me. To let him be my safe harbor. But he doesn’t want me the way I want him.

“I’d rather feel scared,” I whisper.

He swallows, and there’s a flicker of something new in his eyes. Regret.

“I wanted to kiss you.” His grip on my jaw tightens yet somehow remains tender. My heart stops. “But I didn’t want to do it on a dare. I want it to be real.”

I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t misreading the signs. I haven’t been imagining this. Wes really does want me. As much as I want him.

I’m barely able to force the words out, my heart caught in my throat. “Me too.”

He examines every inch of my face before his thumb brushes across my bottom lip. I can’t help myself—I let out a small, involuntary gasp.

“I don’t do sweet and gentle,” he warns. “If you’re looking for a prince, he’s not me. I want my belt around your throat. I want to fuck you so hard, your nails leave scars on my back. If I kiss you, you’re mine.”

Liquid heat pools between my legs. I’m half-aroused, half-terrified by his words. But I know what I want.

“I want to be yours,” I breathe.

That’s all he needs to hear. He grips my hair and pulls me to him, our lips meeting halfway in a collision that makes fireworks burst in my brain. My stomach somersaults as his soft lips move over mine, my panties growing damp when his tongue slips past my lips. I can’t breathe. Can’t think about anything but the feel of his mouth on mine.

When he emits a sound that’s halfway between a groan and a growl, I melt.

“Fuck.” The word is hoarse leaving his throat, a curse and a prayer. “I hope you know what you’ve just unleashed, little flower. You’re not going anywhere now.”

There’s no going back. I’m his.

I belong to Wes Novak.

Chapter23

After

Violet

In the library,the words are pouring out of me.

Professor Tate said we had to write about love in our story. She didn’t say we couldn’t include sex.

Part of me knows I’ll never want to show this to her or to anyone, but I’m not letting the doubts or worry take over. If a love story like the ones I’ve been devouring in books lately gets me writing again, I’ll take it.

The words fly from my fingers so fast, I grin. I’ve missed this feeling so much.

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