Page 135 of Can't Text This

That dull, achy need I always feel between my legs when Robbie is near begins to grow. Our closeness, my lips still stinging from his earlier kisses, his hands on my butt…I can’t take this anymore.

I dart my eyes around the crowd, looking for a place for us to be alone.

“I have an idea.” My words come out rushed, excited.

He pulls back and grins down at me. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to do somethingverynaughty to me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I grab his hand and pull him through the crowd, moving purely on adrenaline and need because there’s no way I’d typically be doing this.

There’s a lone photo booth sitting at the edge of the crowd, and I’m certain no one will notice if we slip inside.

“We arenotdoing a photo booth. It’s so juvenile and cutesy. I’m not doing that shit,” he says when we approach it.

“Wearedoing this. Get in.”

He lets out a frustrated groan as I push him inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he reaches into his back pocket and retrieves his wallet.

He pulls two bills from inside and inserts them into the machine. “Um, it’s a photo booth—they require money to work.”

“That is not what I had in mind.”

I swing my leg over him and climb onto his lap.

“Oh,” he says with surprise, his hands landing on my hips. “I like this. This I can get on board with.”

“Good. Now kiss me.”

The rush of power my words give me has me slamming my mouth down on his. He laughs at my ferocity and takes over, working his mouth against mine with the finesse I’ve only ever experienced with him.

His hands dive into my hair, pulling at it with just the right amount of pressure. He holds me close as he works my lips apart, tasting and teasing me with his tongue.

The heat of the kiss becomes too much, and I don’t know about him, but I amdyingfor a release.

“You have to touch me,” I whisper to him.

“Why’d we have to bring the bike? Bikes are lame. Jeans are lame. I miss your skirts so I can just slide my hand up them.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“I am the worst.” He pushes my jacket off my shoulders. “But I can work with this.”

The light material falls from my body, landing on the floor of the booth, and I don’t even care that it’s probably disgusting and dirty down there.

Robbie is about to set my body on fire, and I can’t wait to feel the flame.

I’m suddenly so thankful I wore my off-the-shoulder top as he tugs the material down.

“Another white one—go figure.”

“Stop it. You know I’m boring.”

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