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I think he’stoohard on her. I also think her mom is a complete bitch. Her dad is neglectful. And everyone else who goes to this school is a goddamn coward, too afraid to even talk to her in fear they might cross the Lancaster heiress.

Sylvie doesn’t scare me. Not in that way. My feelings for her though?

Sometimes, they creep up on me late at night when I can’t sleep, making my chest ache.

“I like that you think I’m strong.” Her smile is big, and she tips her head back, staring up at the stars since there’s no roof over this part of the building. “You make me feel even stronger.”

That’s got to count for something, right? I want to lift her up, not keep her down. Though Whit would probably kick my ass if he knew all of the things I’ve done with his little sister. He barely tolerates me spending time with her, and he doesn’t know the half of it.

I move my hand from her hip to cup her ass, pulling her closer to me. Not even a piece of paper could slip between us and she levels that icy blue gaze on me, her dark lips parted. “What are you doing?”

“You said I never touch you.” I squeeze her plump cheek that fits perfectly in my hand. “So here I am. Touching you.”

The music changes, the new song slower, with a sensual beat. She rocks her hips, her lower body brushing against mine, making me react.

Making me hard.

Her lips curve, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and she slings her arms around my neck, her hold loose, her body swaying back and forth. “God, you’re so sexy, Spence. Have I ever told you that before?”

“No.” A guy from my history class walks by, a full cup of beer in his hand, and I swipe it from him, earning an irritatedheyfrom him. “Thanks.” I lift the cup up in a cheers’ gesture before I take a drink. He shakes his head as he walks away, and I chuckle.

“You’re mean,” she whispers.

I send her a look. “You like it.”

Her eyes flash. “You’re right. I do. Because I’m mean too.”

“You just think you’re mean,” I tease her.

Sylvie scowls. She hates it when I disagree with her. “I’ll have you know, I’m the meanest bitch you’ll ever meet.” I’m about to polish off the beer I have clutched in my hand when she snags it from me, finishing it herself.

“Hey.”

“Kiss me,” she murmurs, just before she rises up and presses her wet mouth to mine. Her lips part, our tongues tangling, and I can taste the beer.

I tighten my hold on her, both hands on her ass now, controlling the way she moves. She clings to me, kissing me in the middle of the crowd, both of us ignoring the shouts and the oohs and the aahs.

We take it far in private, but never like this—out in the open, with everyone as witnesses. We don’t want people to know we’re together. Not really. I don’t want to hear it from anyone we go to school with, especially Whit. I’m not ashamed of what we share, I just don’t want to hear the gossip or deal with her brother.

And I think she feels the same way. We like having our little secret. Messing around in her room, just the two of us rolling around on her bed. My hand in her panties. Her fingers curved around my dick.

“Oh shit,” Sylvie mutters, pulling away from me immediately.

I frown. “What’s wrong?”

She tilts her head to the right. “Look at Summer.”

I glance over to see Summer grinding on some asshole’s junk, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dilated. It’s clear the girl is drunk off her ass, and Bryan—that’s the asshole—is currently leering at her.

“That won’t end well,” I tell Sylvie.

“If my brother sees her with that guy, he’s going to freak.”

Mild understatement.

“Oh God, I think he slipped his hands under her shorts.” Sylvie sounds horrified.

This is the last thing I want to deal with. Drama. Fighting over a girl—whatever Whit says in protest, he’s interested in Summer Savage, despite his constant denials.


Tags: Monica Murphy Romance