Chaos (Mayhem #3)

Kale told me I should hate him, should make him get on his knees. But how can I hate him when he makes me feel like this? When his fingers set my world on fire. When his eyes make my heart flip in my chest. When his voice calls to something in me that no one else knows is there.

When I slide his hand out from my dress and spin around, Shawn’s eyes are almost as dark as mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and forget everything. I forget the past six years, I forget all the drinks I’ve had tonight, I forget the warning Kale gave me.

“I forgive you,” I blurt.

And I kiss him.

I don’t even give him time to respond before I rise onto my tiptoes and do what I’ve been wanting to do for days, for weeks, for years. And God, his mouth is so warm, so soft. I savor it and breathe him in, letting his spicy-clean scent fill my lungs and thicken the fog in my head. His lips taste like a young whiskey, my heart drums against my ribs, one song stops and another begins—and everything I forgot comes back in a fucking rush.

I open my eyes and jerk away, covering my mouth with my hand because oh my God, I just kissed him. Shawn looks stunned, like I just ambushed him—because I just ambushed him. “Oh my God,” I gasp, dropping my hand from my mouth in a panic. I seriously just kissed him. I just kissed Shawn. “I’m so sor—”

One second, I’m panicking. The next, his lips are crushing mine. His fingers dive into my hair, leaving no room for me to get away if I’d even want to, and he kisses me like he’s stealing something. Like he’s on fire and needs me to put him out. But as his lips brush and tease and feed on the raw heat of mine, that fire blazes even hotter. His tongue teases the open seam of my mouth, doing things that have me melting into him and desperately gripping at the sleeves of his shirt. He’s close, but I need him so much closer. I pull and tug and relish the feeling of his fingers in my hair as he writes a song in the rhythm of my breathing. His kiss is an inferno, consuming all of the air in the room and lighting every nerve in my body on white-hot fire.

“Fuck,” he pants against my mouth, the hardness in his jeans throbbing under my hand, which got there all on its own.

When I pull it away—pushing it under his shirt instead because I need more of him, now, right now—Shawn plucks it from his body and links his fingers with mine. He starts pulling me from the dance floor, but stops three steps later to put those delicious lips on mine again. “I’m taking you to the bus,” he growls against my mouth with one hand squeezing my ass through the silky fabric of my barely there dress. He tugs me tight against him so I understand exactly why he’s taking me there, and I bite my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning. His stubble brushes against my temple as he moves his lips to my ear. “Right now.”

“Okay,” I purr against his throat, and then my hand is in his again and a hundred bodies are blurring by us. We break through a steel exit door into the frigid night air, and then we’re across the parking lot and Shawn is practically carrying me onto the bus.

I don’t make it easy for him to get me up the stairs to the first level. As soon as the door is closed behind us, I’m in his arms and his lips are mine. I’m insatiable, but so is he. I don’t try to make it nice for him, he doesn’t try to make it nice for me, and I’m so fucking hot for him I feel like I’ll explode if he doesn’t tear this dress off me soon. “What are you waiting for?”

The backs of my legs collide with the edge of one of the long leather benches on the lower level, and when Shawn lays me down on top of it, I bunch my fist in his shirt and pull him down with me. He settles between my legs and I arch up to meet him, loving the way he groans and pushes back against me, the way he grips my hip so desperately that it’s sure to leave marks for days. He rocks against me as he controls the kiss, making me light-headed as he claims every last centimeter of my lips. I turn my head to the side and pant for fresh air, and when he drops his hungry mouth to the curve of my neck, my eyes roll back behind closed eyelids.

I feel like I’m not even inside my body anymore. I feel like I could pass out. I feel . . . fuck . . . I’m going to throw up.

All of the free drinks I had at the bar hit my stomach at once, threatening to come back up before I even have a chance to get out from under Shawn. I frantically push at him until he gives me enough space to roll out from underneath him, and I shake my head when he asks me what’s wrong. When I slap a hand over my mouth, realization dawns on his face.

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