my room? I’ll be up there in a minute.”
Trying not to look suspicious, I stand and say, “I’m going to find Jenna. Thanks for the tutorial, Brody.” He waves his hand, as if he’s dismissing me. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
I slip silently out of the room, not looking back. As I walk up the stairs, I try to look like I know where I’m going. I know exactly where Brody’s room is, but I’ve never been inside. There are a few people in the hall, waiting for the bathroom. I join the line, and when I am the last person waiting, I hurriedly open Brody’s door and slip inside.
Closing the door, I lean back against it and take a deep breath. I fumble around for the li ght switch and flip it on. Looking around Brody’s room, I feel like a thief in the night. It’s like eating fruit from the forbidden tree.
There is a large corkboard on one wall. He has his work and school schedule s tacked up right alongside pictures of his family. I immediately recognize pictures of the mountains near the cabin, and I wish I was there now instead of hiding in a room, hoping no one knows where I am. This is insane.
This room is much larger than Declan’s. There is enough room for a large bed and desk. A sofa is pushed against one wall, facing a television and stereo. I don’t know exactly what to do with myself, so I sit on the sofa. That makes me a little less nervous than the bed. I can hear the party going on around me, music blaring through the walls and people stumbling down the hallway.
Just as I’m going down the long list of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, Brody opens the door and steps inside. Standing with his back against the door, he looks as if he could devour me. It excites me, but I am afraid of the unknown. “You really are here, in my room. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this? How many times I lay in my bed, thinking about you?” I feel bared to him, as if his eyes penetrate every barrier I have in place.
“So, what am I doing here, Brody?” I ask, and my voice cracks. I hope he doesn’t notice. I clear my throat and try again, “You confuse me. I’m not really sure what you want from me.”
“Quince, it’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what I want with you,” he says as he walks toward me. When he extends his hand to me, I put my hand in his. Pulling me to my feet, he steps into me. I’m sure my body was made just for his.
The music vibrates through the walls, an d he begins to slowly dance with me. I lay my head on his chest and close my eyes. My other senses are heightened as I breathe him in. This must be what temptation and passion smell like. Every touch awakens a new desire in me, and I want to taste him.
Rising to my tiptoes, I press my lips to his neck. His head falls back as he sucks in a breath. I grow braver, licking and sucking the exposed skin under his ear. Reaching behind me, he tangles his hands in my hair and whispers, “Fuck, Quince. You are driving me crazy.” Knowing I can make him feel this way gives me courage.
I lift my head and watch him. His chest is visibly rising and falling, his eyes are closed, and his body is tense. I move my hands down his chest, until I reach his waist. When I li ft his shirt, he reaches over his shoulder and pulls it over his head. I step back into him, and he bends to kiss me. No matter where he touches me with his hands, his lips moving on mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, that is the most sensual of all. It’s addictive.
I imitate him, trying to give as much as I receive. Winding my arms around his neck, I wrap my fingers in his hair. Suddenly, we are moving as he pushes me backward, until my back is against the wall. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands are on my thighs, pulling me into him. My dress rises up, and his hands are on my bare skin. His tongue swirls on my neck, and he begins licking his way down my chest.
Sensing an opportunity, I reach over
Trying not to look suspicious, I stand and say, “I’m going to find Jenna. Thanks for the tutorial, Brody.” He waves his hand, as if he’s dismissing me. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.
I slip silently out of the room, not looking back. As I walk up the stairs, I try to look like I know where I’m going. I know exactly where Brody’s room is, but I’ve never been inside. There are a few people in the hall, waiting for the bathroom. I join the line, and when I am the last person waiting, I hurriedly open Brody’s door and slip inside.
Closing the door, I lean back against it and take a deep breath. I fumble around for the li ght switch and flip it on. Looking around Brody’s room, I feel like a thief in the night. It’s like eating fruit from the forbidden tree.
There is a large corkboard on one wall. He has his work and school schedule s tacked up right alongside pictures of his family. I immediately recognize pictures of the mountains near the cabin, and I wish I was there now instead of hiding in a room, hoping no one knows where I am. This is insane.
This room is much larger than Declan’s. There is enough room for a large bed and desk. A sofa is pushed against one wall, facing a television and stereo. I don’t know exactly what to do with myself, so I sit on the sofa. That makes me a little less nervous than the bed. I can hear the party going on around me, music blaring through the walls and people stumbling down the hallway.
Just as I’m going down the long list of all the reasons why this is a bad idea, Brody opens the door and steps inside. Standing with his back against the door, he looks as if he could devour me. It excites me, but I am afraid of the unknown. “You really are here, in my room. Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this? How many times I lay in my bed, thinking about you?” I feel bared to him, as if his eyes penetrate every barrier I have in place.
“So, what am I doing here, Brody?” I ask, and my voice cracks. I hope he doesn’t notice. I clear my throat and try again, “You confuse me. I’m not really sure what you want from me.”
“Quince, it’s not about what I want from you. It’s about what I want with you,” he says as he walks toward me. When he extends his hand to me, I put my hand in his. Pulling me to my feet, he steps into me. I’m sure my body was made just for his.
The music vibrates through the walls, an d he begins to slowly dance with me. I lay my head on his chest and close my eyes. My other senses are heightened as I breathe him in. This must be what temptation and passion smell like. Every touch awakens a new desire in me, and I want to taste him.
Rising to my tiptoes, I press my lips to his neck. His head falls back as he sucks in a breath. I grow braver, licking and sucking the exposed skin under his ear. Reaching behind me, he tangles his hands in my hair and whispers, “Fuck, Quince. You are driving me crazy.” Knowing I can make him feel this way gives me courage.
I lift my head and watch him. His chest is visibly rising and falling, his eyes are closed, and his body is tense. I move my hands down his chest, until I reach his waist. When I li ft his shirt, he reaches over his shoulder and pulls it over his head. I step back into him, and he bends to kiss me. No matter where he touches me with his hands, his lips moving on mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, that is the most sensual of all. It’s addictive.
I imitate him, trying to give as much as I receive. Winding my arms around his neck, I wrap my fingers in his hair. Suddenly, we are moving as he pushes me backward, until my back is against the wall. He lifts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His hands are on my thighs, pulling me into him. My dress rises up, and his hands are on my bare skin. His tongue swirls on my neck, and he begins licking his way down my chest.
Sensing an opportunity, I reach over
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