Page 61 of Undeniably

“Tinsley said I’m some guy from some vampire show. I don’t know. I just threw on some clothes.” He shrugs, Making Mom and me laugh.

“Here, Morgan.” Dad holds out a piece of a thick branch that was shortened down to fit in my hand and looks like a stake. “Put him out of his misery,” Dad mumbles, making us laugh again and Keaton look confused.

“I’m Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I tell him between laughs.

Keaton laughs too. “What a pair we make tonight. You ready?”

“Take care of her. I’m assuming she’s staying with Tinsley tonight?” Mom asks with a raised brow.

“Yes, ma’am,” Keaton tells her.

“Night, guys, don’t get in too much trouble,” Dad tells us before shutting the door.

“Let’s go.” Keaton leads me towards the car.

“No Bentley tonight?” I tease, knowing he usually drives that when he has people riding with him thanks to the back seat, where his Senna doesn’t have one.

“Nope, just you and me tonight,” he replies huskily before shutting my door.

We drive to the party, making small talk.

“You trust me?” he asks as we pull in and park.

“Of course.”

“Even if I tell you to take off this dress?” He fingers the strap on my shoulder.

“Sounds like a good time,” I tease.

He slides out, walks around, and opens my door. Holding a hand out, he helps me out of the car. He shuts the door softly and leans forward and kisses my lips three times. “I can’t wait to see my gift on you later,” he says gruffly.

“Ah yes, your mysterious gift. Tell me, how did you know what sizes to buy?” I ask while we walk towards the party.

“I was recently left alone in your room for hours.” He winks, making me laugh.

???

Keaton

The party goes on, and the time ticks down for us to finally make our way into the woods.

“You ready?” I whisper next to Morgan’s ear and nip at it before soothing it with my tongue.

“Always,” she hisses back.

I grab her hand and lead her out the door and toward the woods. We walk the path, and when the fire comes into view, I stop her.

“I need you to strip down to your bra and panties, baby,” I tell her as I start to unbutton my shirt.

She raises a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

She doesn’t question me again but pulls the dress over her head, and I gasp. Even in the dim light, I know the dark green looks fantastic against her pale, milky skin.

“Can I keep my boots on?” she asks sarcastically.

“Please do,” I look her up and down and bite my lip.

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