Page 147 of Well That Happened

My mouth moves against hers like it’s starving. Like I’m trying to memorize the taste of her and burn it into every cell in my body.

She gasps when I press her back into the cushions, her legs parting instinctively, welcoming me into the space no one else fills.

I groan, low and wrecked, because this—this is what I’ve been trying not to want.

And I’mso tiredof pretending I don’t.

When I pull back, we’re both breathing hard. Her lips are pink, kissed raw, and her eyes are glassy with need.

I rest my forehead against hers.

Her breath fans across my cheek, fast and uneven, like mine.

Neither of us says anything for a beat.

And then her fingers curl in the front of my t-shirt again—like she’s afraid I’ll pull away.

I’m not going anywhere.

She pulls me back in—and I don’t stop.

Her mouth meets mine again, hot and open, and everything in me coils tight.

I’m still kneeling on the floor, and she’s perched on the edge of the couch—close enough to taste, but not close enough to have.

Not like I need.

I grip the cushion beside her thigh and push myself up, sliding onto the couch in one movement.

I pull her into my lap—her legs sliding to either side of my hips, straddling me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And hell, maybe it is.

Right now, I can’t remember a single reason why I ever held back.

My hands find her thighs, then her waist, and then the small of her back—like I can’t decide what part of her to hold first. I wantallof her.

She grinds once—slow, testing—and my breath punches out of me.

“Rilee,” I rasp, already half gone.

Her lips find the underside of my jaw, then the curve of my neck. She’s kissing me like she’s claiming me, like she’s finally stopped caring who sees.

Which is good.

Because Caleb’s somewhere to our left, definitely watching, probably grinning.

Grayson’s on our right, silent as always. But I don’t look. I don’t care.

Because all I see is her.

Her hair falling in my face. Her hands on my chest. Her thighs tightening around my hips as I rock up to meet her.

She lets out a soft noise—barely a breath—and it shoots straight through me.

My hands move under her shirt, skimming warm skin, and her eyes flutter closed like she’s giving herself over completely.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whisper.

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