He accepts the challenge as he crushes his lips against mine. My knees immediately buckle and, searching for stability, I weave my arms around his neck. Oz uses his strength to support me in response. My fingers rake through his hair. His hands massage my back.
A warmth spreads in my stomach and it’s a driving need that causes me to curl myself around him. Both of Oz’s hands slip down my spine. A slight brush along my bottom and I suck in a surprised and excited breath as Oz grabs on to the back of my thighs.
My eyes open when Oz lifts me in the air and in a fast twist, I’m against the door right at his level. He stares at me. I stare at him. Our chests rise and fall at a rapid rate.
I have what I needed. The leverage to leave, but this...this type of kiss...I want more.
I tip toward him, letting my thighs carry some of my weight on his hips and Oz’s mouth edges up as he briefly closes his eyes, as if he enjoys the friction between us. I like that I affect him. I like all of this way too much.
My fingers drift into his hair, fulfilling my fantasy from earlier, and I tilt my head closer. Oz does the same and heat builds. If we start this again, will we stop? Do I want to stop?
The answer is no.
Mouths stir. A nibble on my lower lip. I take in his top one. A lick of his tongue. And the game continues to increase in intensity. Testing. Tasting. Teasing. Strengthening and growing and exploring and a silent rhythm is created. Soon not only our mouths are moving in time, but so are our bodies.
Oz redistributes my weight so that he’s leaning into me and my back is flush against the door. I part my lips, and the entire world explodes. His tongue sweeps next to mine and we’re both touching and moaning and so hungry for more. The delicious pressure of his mouth on my neck. More. The way his hips maneuver against mine. More. His muscles flexing under my caress. More...
I blink when Oz’s fingers slip to my shoulder near my tank-top strap. My hands slide to his chest and I push. As if I flipped his switch again, Oz places my feet on the ground and jumps back.
A rush of guilt consumes me because none of that is me. None of it. I don’t hook up, but that wasn’t a hook-up. It was a kiss. Just a kiss. Just the best freaking kiss of my life with a guy who hates me.
Oh my God, we were mauling each other. Oz draws down his shirt and readjusts parts in his pants. I drag a hand through my hair and try to ignore how the strands are completely tangled.
I graze my hand across my swollen lips. Just a kiss. Just a kiss. Just a kiss.
I clear my throat and Oz glances at me as if he’s startled.
“Um...” Think straight, Emily. “You need to sneak me out so I can hear what Eli has to say to my parents.”
Oz laughs. “Did you think I’m going to ruin my chance with the club because you thought I’d get sentimental? You’re wrong.”
I shake my head because he misunderstands. “No, you’re going to help me because if you don’t, I’ll tell Eli that you kissed me.”
Oz
EMILY AND I are crouched in the small kitchen next to the general meeting area of the Lanesville chapter. Above us is the open serving window. In the room adjoining the kitchen, chairs shift and there’s the occasional try at conversation between Emily’s parents to fill time.
Anger is a pulse within my body. I’m risking my entire future in the club because Emily—little good-girl Emily—knows how to seduce. Her ultimatum: bring her here to eavesdrop or she’ll inform Eli I kissed her. I have a better chance at surviving telling him we left the office than his daughter announcing we went at it and that I held her up against the door as I attempted to slip down her bra.
I silently rap my head against the wall behind me. What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. That was my problem. I blame it on the lack of sleep, Emily looking too damn gorgeous for her own good and how she acts all naive and seductive.
I’m fucked. I’m stupid and I’m fucked.
“I’m going to go use the restroom,” says Emily’s dad.
“All right,” answers her mom.
Shoes against the concrete and the squeak of a chair being pulled out. From where we sit, we can see a reflection of Emily’s parents from the glass of a cabinet. Along the shelves in front of us are unopened bottles of liquor, boxes and, across from Emily, a jumbo box of condoms and a pair of women’s lace underwear.
Emily’s face contorts and my lips turn up.
“Ew,” she mouths.
My unrepentant smile grows and I shrug a so-what. Club life is club life and we don’t apologize to anyone for it.
We sit beside each other and our thighs slightly touch. I knead my eyes and try to push away the memory of Emily’s body moving against mine. That was the hottest damn kiss I’ve had and it’s going to cost my life or my future. And I thought only guys did the seducing. I should feel cheap, but that kiss was too good to feel used.
Trouble.
Emily is trouble and she needs to leave before I end up with a bullet in my head.
The door to the general area opens then closes and Emily straightens. My eyes snap to the glass case and I stop breathing. Eli.
There’s silence. A heavy silence as Emily’s mom and Eli stare at each other.