Page 129 of June First

Too close. Way too fucking close.

She’s breaching my barriers. Burrowing inside.

Her hands are all over me, my hair, my jaw, my neck, my shoulders. Her breathing is heavy and ragged as she presses a kiss to the curve of my neck, and I feel sick.

I feel absolutely sick because all she needs is comfort, and I’m getting hard.

“God, June, please go.” My words are laced with desperation, and even though I’m telling her to go, I still hold her tight. Instinct drags my hand to her knotted hair and I fist it, crashing my forehead to hers. “Please.”

She makes a gasping sound. “I need you.”

“Why?”

“I–I’m scared.”

“Why?”

Her breaths come quick and shaky. Our lips are so close, nearly grazing. “I…”

“Why did you kiss me?” I blurt out, tugging her hair harder, forcing a whimper from her lips.

Time stands still. Blue eyes lock with mine, our mouths hovering only a hairsbreadth apart. Just the slightest motion forward would sink us into another corrupt kiss, a kiss I’m confident would lead to something far worse, here in my bed, insatiably entwined, with darkness and desire fueling us—something we’d never recover from.

June inhales a sharp breath, her gaze dipping to my mouth, then back up. Swallowing, she answers in a shivery voice, “It was a dare.”

I blink.

My hand relaxes in her hair as I frown.

A dare.

She kissed me on a dare, and I thought it was more.

I thought it was so much more.

Letting her go, I jump back and sit up straight, running a hand across my mouth as if I’m trying to wipe away the taste of that kiss.

A kiss she never wanted in the first place.

It was just a dare.

She senses the dramatic shift in mood and sits up, scrambling toward me. “I–I’m so sorry, Brant. It was stupid of me to do it, but I made a pact with Celeste and Gen, and we all had to do something awful, and—”

Something awful.

Something. Awful.

“June.”

Her rambling ceases as she leans into me, chest heaving with worry. There’s a long pause before she continues. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t hate me for it. You’re the only brother I have left, and I won’t survive it if you hate me—”

“Go,” I say, my tone eerily low and firm.

“I promise I won’t—”

“You need to go.”

“But you’re my brother, and I—”

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