Page 68 of On the Breakaway

Her mouth falls open. “Well, excuse me for being efficient.” She pushes off the wall. “I can leave if you want. I’m sure Jeremy’s still out front.”

Jeremy. Of course, that guy has a stupid fucking name like Jeremy. Jealousy punches through me so hard it catches me off guard.

I take a slow step toward her. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Do what?” Her throat bobs.

I move before she’s done speaking. After two long strides, she backs up instinctively, eyes widening as I crowd into her space.

“Grayso–”

I hook two fingers into the waistband of her skirt, moving her backward until her body is pushing through the door to the bathroom. Her eyes stay focused on me, but I can feel the way her body tenses with anticipation. Once we’re both inside, I lock the door so that we’re alone with the dim lighting and muffled bass vibrating through the walls.

“Chaos,” I murmur, stepping closer until she’s backed into the wall. “Have you had anything to drink tonight?”

I see defiance flash in her eyes, but I reach up, swirling a strand of her hair around my finger, and it dissolves into smoke.

She shakes her head once.

“Nothing?” My gaze drags over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks.

“Just water.”

“Good.” I brace one hand beside her head against the wall, lowering my voice. “Because I want you to have a clear head when I make you come.”

She swallows, and her breathing picks up. My eyes trail over her, and this time, I don’t bother to disguise the fact that I am absolutely checking her out. Her cleavage spills out of the top that dips low enough to make me wonder if she’s even wearing a bra. Her legs seem to stretch for miles despite the fact that even with her heels, she’s shorter than me.

She tsks, bringing my attention back to her lips. A smirk flashes across her face, then she whispers, “You mean, if you make me come.”

A low growl tears itself out of my throat as I slam my lips to hers.

All the tension from the last several weeks detonates the second our mouths collide. She grabs the front of my shirt hard, pulling me closer while I slide a hand around her waist and pin her to me.

Fuck.

Her mouth.

Avery kisses the same way she argues. Aggressive. Reckless. Like she’s trying to win something. But I meet her every step of the way, my tongue sliding into her mouth and tasting her.

“Still think this is a bad idea?” She breathes between kisses.

“It’s an awful idea,” I mutter.

Our mouths collide again.

Maybe it is a bad idea, but that doesn’t stop me from sliding my hands under her ass and carrying her to the counter along the opposite wall across from the sinks and mirrors. I set her down, hands sliding up her sides while her legs part, giving me room to step between them.

She’s kissing me like she wants to devour me alive. And I don’t know who the fuck I am right now because I might just let her.

“Chaos,” I warn when her nails scrape down the back of my neck.

“What?” She asks innocently, even as her mouth drags across my jaw.

Irritation bleeds straight into desire. I shove her skirt up her thighs until I can see the black lace thong barely covering her, already damp with her arousal. Her sharp inhale is loud against my throat.

I groan against her lips. “Is that what I think it is?”

She nods.