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Doubtful. Again, this is Jackson. He’s done this sort of thing a million times before.

But he’s never done them with me.

His hand shifts to my cheek, cradling my face, his gaze never straying from mine. We’re still not speaking. I also still stand by my assessment that words tend to ruin everything between us. As in, we say all the wrong ones, and make each other mad.

Right now, the silence is perfect. His actions are telling me what he wants.

Me.

Dipping his head, he brushes my mouth with his own in the softest of kisses. The moment our lips touch, I melt. Without thought I reach up, my hand sliding around the back of his neck, holding him to me. His mouth is on mine again. And again. I open to him, his tongue a tease, sliding into my mouth. Quickly retreating.

The way he kisses me is perfect. Dreamy. I want more.

I tighten my fingers around his nape, indicating just that and he deepens the kiss. His arm squeezes me closer, pulling me into his long, hard body and I wish we were already on the bed.

Where I could rub my body all over his.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Right now is for kisses. Sweet yet slightly filthy kisses that are full of tongue and soft moans and low groans. Testing and teasing, trying to figure out what the other likes. Wants. Needs.

I like, want and need all of it.

We kiss each

other as if we’re ravenous. As if we’ve been holding back for so long, and we’re finally giving in to our urges. This is how I feel, at least. I’ve been pent-up, longing for this boy, this man, for what feels like forever. He’s shown me so many pieces of himself, but never this. This is the one piece he’s kept hidden away from me. It feels like a triumph, that his hands are finally on me, and his mouth is fused with mine.

Like I’ve won the grand prize.

My phone starts to buzz from where I left it on the bedside table and I ignore it. The buzzing stops, only to start up all over again.

“Maybe I should get that,” I say against Jackson’s lips.

“No,” he says, just as he devours me again.

I forget all about the buzzing, consumed by Jackson consuming me. That deep ache is back between my thighs, reminding me that I want more. The longer he kisses me, the lower my inhibitions become. I can feel the urgency grow until it’s a steady, demanding beat.

My phone buzzes again.

“I need to see who that is,” I say after I rip my lips from Jackson’s.

He breathes deep, his arms springing away from me as he lets me go. I check the phone and see it’s Ava trying to FaceTime me.

At ten thirty at night.

I send Jackson a helpless look. “I should answer it.”

He nods. Swallows hard. “Go for it.”

Not caring that she’ll see us together, I answer the call, my image popping up in the camera as I wait for Ava to appear and Jackson’s nowhere in sight, completely out of view. I look a mess. Thoroughly kissed, my lips swollen, my eyes bright. I run a hand over my hair, tucking the strands behind my ears and finally, Ava’s face appears.

It’s soaked with tears.

“What’s wrong?” I say, my heart freezing in fear. “Is everything okay?”

She sniffs. Dashes a hand under one eye, then the other. “I hate it here,” she wails.

I collapse on the edge of my mattress, my own heart breaking at seeing my best friend so upset. “Aw, you’ll get used to it.”

“I miss everyone. Why did I leave? What was I thinking? I miss my mom and dad, and Beck. I miss Eli so much. I miss you.” She starts to actually cry. “I miss everyone. I have no friends. My boyfriend is going to break up with me, I just know it.”


Tags: Monica Murphy College Years Romance