Page 65 of Make Me Mean It

“What?” I snap, hating how exposed I feel without his hands on me.

Theo looks down with a short, humourless laugh before meeting my eyes again.

“You’re scared.”

“I’m not-”

“If kissing me was really nothing,” he cuts in, “you would’ve done it already.”

He shrugs and turns away from me, apparently satisfied that he gets to tell me exactly what I’m feeling and then walk off.

Maybe it’s the certainty in his voice, or the fact he’s decided he has me figured out. Maybe it’s worse than that, because he stopped the second I told him to, and now he gets to walk away while every place he touched me is still screaming with the absence of him.

My hand closes around his hip, pulling him back towards me, turning him into my body and catching his mouth with mine.

Fuck.

His lips are warm and completely still.

For the first time since I met him, Theo freezes.

His hands hover at my sides, breath catching against my mouth, and instead of making me hesitate, having Theo completely speechless beneath me only makes me tighten my hold.

My hand moves from his hip to his jaw, fingers closing firmly as I angle his face and kiss him again, this time exactly the way I want to. Theo makes a small, broken sound against my mouth, and whatever restraint I had left disappears with it.

His lips finally move beneath mine, tentative for barely a second before he gives in and kisses me back.

There’s nothing lazy about Theo now, none of the teasing confidence he’s been hiding behind all afternoon. He kisses me back with enough hunger to steal what little breath I have left, and when his lips part beneath mine, I push my tongue into his mouth.

A groan catches somewhere between us.

He tastes faintly of smoke, and I chase it deeper. Theo’s teeth close around my bottom lip, the sharp sting making my fingers dig into his back as I pull him harder against me, even though there isn’t an inch left to take.

The cold stops mattering. So does the lake, the trees, the bike sitting somewhere behind us, every reason I had five minutes ago for why this couldn’t possibly be something I wanted.

Because I’m kissing Theo.

And I fucking want it.

I want his mouth opening beneath mine. I want the broken little sounds catching in his throat every time I take the kiss deeper, want the way his body gives when I hold him exactly where I want him.

A heavy throb between my legs cuts through everything.

My cock is hard.

Against Theo.

I tear myself away, air hitting my lungs as I stumble back, breathing through my mouth while Theo rocks backwards from the sudden loss of me.

His lips are red and swollen from mine, wet where his tongue swipes over them, his chest rising hard. He just stands there staring back at me, pupils blown wide, looking thoroughly fucking wrecked.

Because of me.

The urge to grab him again comes so quickly it scares me more than being hard ever could.

I curl my hands into fists.

“Happy now?” My voice scrapes on the way out, forcing me to clear my throat before I can make myself meet his eyes properly. “It didn’t change a thing.”

His breathing still hasn’t settled, eyes flicking over my face.

“Right,” he croaks, quieter than I expect.

No teasing. No smug little smile. Nothing for me to push back against.

And somehow that feels worse.