Page 65 of The Bad Boy Rule

I’m fairly certain he’s written the book on casual hookups.

“Shut up. I’m serious. I’m… a virgin. And I haven’t really done anything… at all. But I’m okay with everythingbutsex. I’m just not ready for that yet.”

After a pause, he nods, his gaze dropping to my lips when I press them together, and only then do I realize that I’m still touching him, my palms still pressed against his hard, naked chest.

“I can’t give you gentle and sweet. Not built like th?—”

“I don’t want that. Just because I’m inexperienced doesn’t mean I need to be handled like I’m going to break. I know how to ask for what I want. I think you know that by now.”

I see surprise cross his face before it morphs, changes right before my eyes into something… hungry, a dark expression passing over his face.

With that look, I expect him to kiss me or touch me… something, but instead, he drops his hand from the wall and turns, walking away, the defined muscles along his back rippling with each step.

What?

I’m just about to ask if he’s already changed his mind when he saunters over to the bench and sinks down, arms stretching wide along the back of it like a king taking his throne.

He spreads his legs and plants his feet, eyes pinning me with a look that compels me.

With a jerk of his head, he calls me to him without saying a single word.

Those dark, stormy irises of his eyes seem to burn as they slowly travel down my body, tracking each step I take toward him.

Despite the tremble in my legs, I continue across the locker room until I stop directly in front of where he sits.

He hasn’t even touched me, and yet my body feels like it’s onfire.Untamed flames lick every inch of my skin.

Anticipation coils tight inside of me, pent-up need, desperation for more of what I felt the last time we were together.

Like an addiction that onlyhecan feed.

I can hardly remain still while waiting for him to move.

Speak.

Do something.

Anything.

Finally, when my heart feels like it’s going to launch out of my chest, he leans forward and slides his big, rough palms along the back of my thighs until they’re curved just beneath where my skirt ends. Torturously slow, he inches them higher, disappearing beneath the fabric and causing my breath to hitch, all while holding my eyes so intensely that I nearly cave from the weight of it.

His thumbs sweep along the bare skin on the back of my thighs, dangerously close to the spot where my ass curves.

I fight back the urge to shiver.

In one swift motion, he lifts me and places me in his lap, my legs falling open to fit around his hips, his mouth hovering over mine.

It feels like an eternity passes as I wait, and he remains rooted in place.

“Are you going to kiss me or not, Satan?”

His lip twitches as he leans forward and gently drags his nose along mine, lips ghosting so close that I can almost taste them, but still… he doesn’t kiss me.

God, the teasing, hands everywhere but where I’m aching for him… It’s maddening.

I’m burning up.

Then he lunges, his mouth colliding with mine and stealing the breath from my lungs. My hands fly to his hair, fingers tangling in the inky strands. He teases the seam of my lips, not asking, commanding me to open for him, and obediently, I do. He swallows down every whimper, every moan, stroking my tongue as his hands find my ass, sliding higher and higher along my back until he’s pulling me flush with every hard inch of him.

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