Page 104 of The Forever After Bet

“Shoot. If they’re not letting kids leave, I can guarantee the janitor’s closet will be occupied by the time we get there.”

“Ah, too bad.” I pat his face. “We have time after school. We don’t have to be on the bus until four. That gives us forty-five minutes.”

“Don’t tempt me. It’s been a while since we’ve been together,” Ford says, taking my hand as we walk toward our lockers.

“Let’s try the janitor’s closet. Maybe everyone has the same thought, so it will be empty.”

Ford picks up his pace, dragging me behind him. When he turns the corner to go down A hall, he jerks to a stop. I slam into his back.

“Ouch.” I rub my nose.

He turns around, putting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Why did you stop?”

“Bree. She’s standing at an open locker. Melissa and Missy are with her.”

I tug on Ford’s hand. “We need to go before she sees us.” I’m serious, but I’m laughing.

We walk down B hall, past our lockers. When we pass the student workroom, Ford tries the doorknob, and it opens.

“No way,” Ford exclaims, pulling me into the dark room. He flips the lights on and locks the door.

“Do you think we’ll be okay in here until the end of lunch?”

“I don’t know why not. If someone was going to take a test, they’d probably have started by now.”

“True.” I push Ford up against the wall and press my mouth to his. He grabs my bottom, lifting me, and I wrap my legs around his hips.

“Deja Vue.” Ford smiles into my mouth.

“Except this time, we get more.” I trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “How about a good luck kiss for tonight?” I say against the sensitive skin of his neck and scrape my teeth down it.

“Hannah,” Ford growls with a warning.

“Okay, okay.”

Ford untucks the back of my shirt, slipping his hand inside. His fingers slide under the band of my sports bra to squeeze and rub my breast. I fist my hands in the back of his dress shirt, then slide them down, grabbing his amazingly firm ass. I rub my hands over the hard globes. “I need you to show me the exercises you do to get your butt like this.”

“Seven years of football,” Ford says, trailing kisses along the V shaped neckline of my cheer top.

“I can do that.” I tease.

“I have no doubt.” He arches his hips against mine, and we both moan.

“This isn’t going to work.”

“Huh?” I open my eyes. He steps back, and I put my feet on the ground.

“There we go.”

Before I can ask what he means, he slips his hand down my pants and between my legs. I open my mouth to cry out, but Ford covers his mouth over mine, swallowing all my sounds. I want to slide my hand up under Ford’s shirt, but he has a dress shirt and vest on.

“Untuck my shirt,” Ford whispers.

I shake my head. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Hannah, untuck my shirt. I need to feel your hands on me.” That’s all the incentive I need. I pull his shirttails from his pants and rub my hands along his chest and abs.

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