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My hands cradle her jaw, and I kiss her with every ounce of frustration I’ve felt for the past few weeks of denying myself. Knowing that I couldn’t have her.
That I still can’t have her.
Her hands fly to my chest, where she fists the fabric of my T-shirt in her tiny hands, moaning around my tongue, which has slipped into her mouth, working hers. There’s nothing patient or gentle about this kiss. It’s needy, frantic, and unhinged, both of us desperate for each other.
Bending, I hoist her up, my mouth never leaving hers as her legs hook around my waist, pressing her right against my cock, which is straining against the zipper of my jeans. She mewls when she feels the contact, the hardness of me pressed against her, only the barrier of denim separating us.
“Wait, what are—” She pulls back, panting, and I use the moment to pepper her jaw with kisses, sliding my tongue lower to her neck, where I suck the delicate skin. “What are we doing, Hudson?”
“Stop talking, Caroline,” I rasp, my eyes finding hers. Both of our chests heave as we try to catch our breath after minutes of what feels like only breathing air into the other. “I couldn’t watch him touch you for another goddamn second, or I was going to spend the night in a jail cell.”
Surprise flashes across her face. “You were… jealous?”
“I don’t get jealous, Bubblegum.”
“Clearly, you do.” She wiggles her hips with each word, and I bite down on my lip so hard that I taste the tangy, metallic flavor of blood. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
She knows exactly the effect she has on me, and she’s right. I was jealous.
That’s why I’ve got her pinned against a dirty brick wall in an abandoned fucking alley outside of a goddamn college bar, where anyone could walk out and find us, knowing the consequences of my actions.
I’m fucked. That’s it.
This girl has my headfucked.
And I don’t want it to be any other way.
I just wanther.
“I want you, and I am so fucking sick of pretending that I don’t,” I say honestly, my eyes holding hers. “And I think you want me just as bad. I’m giving in. I’m waving the white fucking flag because I can’t last another second without touching you. Can I have you, Caroline?”
Biting her lip, she says, “Are you asking for a repeat of the broom closet, Hudson Rome?”
Her words send a laugh rumbling from my chest. “You meant the time Ibarelymade you come?”
Her shoulder pops, a flirty smile gracing her lips. “I’m willing to let you redeem yourself. Maybe.”
This time, a groan erupts, deep and throaty, and I drop my head against her soft chest. “That mouth.”
And then her lips ghost across mine, and I fucking love that she’s the one to initiate it. I don’t know much about my Juliet, except that she’s as off-limits as they come, and the sound that she makes when she comes.
Oh, and that she’s a liar, because I made her come several times in the span of just a few minutes, but I’ll play her games. For now.
I can tell she’s confident and comfortable in her own skin, and I fucking love it.
I deepen the kiss, angling my head to slip inside her mouth, my hands cradling her jaw, and goddamnit, I want her.
I want to take her home and lay her out on my bed, peel each layer off her until she’s naked, her honey-blonde hair spread out around her as I devour her, make her come until she’s limp and stated, then flip her over and slide into her over and over.
The back door to the club flies open, slamming against the wall near us, causing us both to jump. I lower Caroline slightly and step in front of her, shielding her from whoever stumbled through the door.
When I glance over my shoulder, I see a young couple stumbling toward the street, clutching each other, their backs to us.
Thank fuck.
Jesus, that was close.
The moment now broken, I glance down at her. “That’s one way to end up on the front page of a tabloid.”
