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Lifting his hand, he grazed the back of his knuckles up my jaw to my cheekbone. “I was curious.”

“I was waiting.”

A smile twitched as he moved in.

Our lips touched. Just barely. But the air left me like I’d toppled off a twenty-foot cliff and landed on my back.

Reed sighed, his other hand lightly sliding up my leg, underneath the hem of my damp skirt, and skimming along my inner thigh.

My legs parted on pure instinct.

He reacted to the silent invitation, his eyelids fluttering as the pressure on my thigh tightened, and he squeezed me, just an inch below my underwear.

A whimper left me, colliding with his sharp intake of breath, and then his tongue poked out to taste my full bottom lip. That was all it took. I shivered, shattered, and leaned all the way in until our lips crashed together and his tongue filled my mouth.

Remnants of wintergreen chewing gum and a hint of beer.

One kiss, and I was already addicted to the taste of him.

I gripped his T-shirt, vibrating with need. This felt different. It wasn’t an awkward, stumbling kiss with a high school boy that left me empty and questioning everything. I questioned nothing. All I did was savor as he memorized my mouth with his skilled tongue, angling and deepening.

Heady moans tangled as Reed pushed me backward on the bed and collapsed over me, one hand cupping my cheek and the other still squeezing my thigh.

I wanted more.

As our tongues thrashed and tasted, I tugged at the hand hidden under my skirt until his fingers flew all the way up my thigh and roughly cupped the space between my legs.

He groaned, rough and virile.

Holy shit.

I arched with a whimper as he stroked the fabric of my underwear that was soaked with lake water and desire. As our tongues drove deeper, I reached down and found his erection. Steely, huge. Straining against denim. He broke away from my mouth to let out a strangled sound and nicked his teeth along my throat.

It was the only bruise I’d ever beg for.

“I don’t do this.” He ground against my palm as I squeezed him through his jeans. “I’m not that guy.”

My back bowed off the bed as his fingers stroked me, faster, with more pressure. “I want you to be that guy.”

He dragged his tongue up the side of my neck and fumbled with the elastic of my underwear until two fingers snuck inside and sank into my flesh. “Fuck.”

“Reed…” I was boneless, gasping, a ragdoll beneath him. “Please.”

His fist was in my hair, fingers pumping, his tongue lashing against mine while we moved and writhed and moaned, and that was when Jay Jennings stumbled into the room with a woman on his arm.

We both shot up, my cheeks flushed, blood pumping hot with unresolved lust.

The door had been wide open, people just a few feet away.

Oh, God.

“What are you fuckers doing in here?” Jay slurred good-naturedly, his arm slung around the woman’s waist. “Buddy, this chick looks too young for you.”

We stood from the bed, the tension severed. My face burned as I inched my skirt back down and rearranged my T-shirt that was halfway up my torso.

Reed blew out a breath, stabbing a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“You’re welcome to fuck on my bed.” He winked. “After I’m done with it.”

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