Page 44 of Caught Up In You

“Where are we going?” I ask as we fly past banks of red lockers.

“Somewhere we can be alone.”

At the end of the hall, we duck into a stairwell, and Owen immediately backs me into the corner, his hands on my cheeks as he pulls me toward him. He claims my mouth, a trueclaiming, and all I can do is surrender to him. I moan into his mouth and press against the hard ridge inside his flight suit.

“Hardly private, Doc,” I whisper against his lips.

“This isn’t our final destination,” he replies with a curl of his lips. Then he traces his tongue along the edge of my jaw. “I just couldn’t wait.”

And then he’s taking my hand again, pulling me after him down two flights of stairs, through a set of double doors, and past more lockers. At the end of the hall, he turns and shoulders into a classroom, the heavy wooden door smacking hard against the wall before he closes it behind us. There are tall tables and metal stools, shelves against the back wall full of glass beakers and jars. And in the corner, a little nook with a sink and a counter.

Owen drags me back there, turns, and in one swift motion, grasps my hips and lifts me, depositing me on the countertop. Tucked back in this nook, we wouldn’t even be seen if someone opened the door and poked their head in.

“How do you know about this spot?” I ask, breathless.

“This is my high school,” he reminds me, then grins. “And I may have brought Suzie Parrish here during the homecoming dance.”

I roll my eyes as if I’m not completely charmed by the idea that the golden boy has a few dirty little secrets. “Way to make a girl feel special, Doc.”

“We just made out a little,” he says, peppering my collarbone with soft kisses. “That is not at all what I have planned for you.”

Owen places his hands on my bare knees, sending a sizzle of heat through my body.

“Open,” he says. It’s a command, issued in a low, stern voice. It’s an Owen I haven’t seen before, and I like it way too much.

Still, I take pleasure in smirking at him. His lips twitch, trying to suppress his own smile, as I press my knees together.

“You’re being a brat, Wyatt,” he says with a warning in his tone.

I grin. “Do you like it?”

His eyes grow dark, and this time he lets his lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Everything around me fades to black as this man in front of me becomes the center of my universe. His smug smile, the way his fingers flex into the skin of my thighs. As much as I want to keep playing with him, pushing him, something about the commanding look in his eyes causes my knees to drift apart.

And when he realizes that he’s won, that I’m opening for him, he parts my legs the rest of the way with a firm press of his palms, dropping to his knees before me.

He looks up and meets my eyes.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, then gives my inner thigh a slap.

I gasp.

A guy called me a good girl during sex once. It sounded porny and demeaning, and—entirely instinctively—I kneed him in the balls. (Okay, it was a little bit on purpose.)

But when Owen says it, it’s like my body comes online, erogenous zones lighting up like a slot machine, the little air traffic controller in my brain setting every nerve ending ablaze.

My lips part and a moan escapes.

“Tell me yes, Wyatt,” Owen says, and this time it’s part demand, part desperate plea. When I don’t respond immediately, when I press my lips together, a brow arched, he bends down and sinks his teeth into my inner thigh.

“Yessss,” I hiss, holding my thighs open for him, wanton and free.

It’s the affirmation he needs to send his lips ghosting over the thin strip of fabric covering me. This leotard was an even better costume choice than I imagined.

Because while I certainly planned to have fun with him tonight, getting eaten out in a high school chemistry lab is miles better than any of my dirtiest fantasies.

I lean against the wall, arching my back and pressing myself into his lips, desperate for contact. But Owen pulls back, exhaling a soft puff of air that drags a desperate whine out of me. It feels so good, and yet it’s not anywhere close to what I want from him.

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