Page 119 of Beyond the Lines
His mouth finds my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access, my eyes closing as sensation floods through me. My entire body feels like it’s humming, every nerve ending crackling with energy. But when I hear a laugh from around the corner, I realize where we are.
“Declan,” I whisper, even as I arch into him. “We’re in the hallway.”
“Mmm,” he agrees, completely unconcerned as he continues his work.
I push ineffectively at his shoulders, laughing. “Stop, we’ll get caught.”
“Don’t care,” he mumbles, but he pulls back, his blue eyes dark with want.
The logical part of my brain—the increasingly smaller portion not consumed with wanting to tear his clothes off and let him fuck my brains out—reminds me why we’re here, andthat even if wearegoing to fuck, it’s better to do it where Mike or one of the other hockey guys won’t see.
“Art project,” I say, though it comes out breathier than intended. “Final drawing. Remember?”
He sighs dramatically, stepping back to let me pass into his apartment. “Right. Because I definitely invited you over to draw.”
I pick up my fallen portfolio with as much dignity as I can muster, which isn’t much considering my legs feel like the overcooked pasta from the dining hall. And when I step past him and head for his living room, I resolutely ignore how good he smells, lest we start clawing at each other again.
“I had an idea for tonight,” I say, setting my materials on his coffee table. “Something different.”
His expression shifts from playful to intrigued. “Yeah?”
“I think we should draw each other.” I hold up a hand before he can speak. “And if Linc walks in, we’re done. No more study sessions with Leprechaun Boy.”
Declan raises a single eyebrow, because he clearly understands the significance. The last time we drew each other—officially, at least, as opposed to doing so on our time—was the moments beforethatbathroom incident. With the explosion of emotions that followed that, we’ve avoided it…”
Until now.
“I’m ready, I think,” I say with a smile.
A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Are you suggesting we submit nude drawings of each other for an official school project? Because while I’d love to capture your body on paper…” His gaze trails slowly down me, and I feel it like a physical touch. “I’m not sure Professor Lucas would appreciate it…”
I shove his shoulder, heat blooming in my cheeks. “No,you perv. We’ll be clothed. The wrinkles in the fabric will add texture, show off more of our skills.”
“Shame.” He catches my hand and pulls me closer again. “I was getting excited about taking a more… anatomical approach to our assignment.”
“You’re impossible.” But I can’t help smiling.
“I’ll go first.” He moves to his couch, stretching out on his side with his head propped on his elbow, one leg bent. The position does ridiculous things to his body—highlighting the length of his torso, the breadth of his shoulders, and the strong line of his jaw.
I just stare at him for a minute.
The past few weeks have been… magical is the only word that fits. After everything, we’ve somehow landed in this perfect, secret little bubble. My first year of college is nothing like I’d planned, but it’s better, and I feel like I’m back on track.
I feel settled.
Calm.
Happy.
“You’re staring,” he points out.
“I’m supposed to be staring. I’m drawing you.”
“You haven’t picked up a pencil yet.”
I snatch up a pencil, holding it like a weapon. “There. Happy?”
“Getting there.” His lips curve into the slow smile that never fails to make my stomach flip. “You look beautiful tonight.”
