Faking It (Losing It, #2)(18)

I chose the other, and used the hand I was holding to tug her forward into my arms. Her chest pressed into mine, and her lips were millimeters from my own. She exhaled sharply, and I could taste the sweetness of her breath on the air. I saw in her eyes the moment she knew she was wrong, but I wasn’t done proving it to her.

I crushed my mouth to hers.

She gasped, and I slipped my tongue past her lips. She stayed there for a few seconds, her hands still at her sides, then I felt the tentative touch of her hand against my hip, and that was all the permission I needed to continue. I threaded a hand through her hair and wrapped the other around her waist. I walked her backward until she hit the wall. Her other hand came to my waist, and her fingers pressed deeper into my skin. Her lips were soft and full underneath mine, and I eased up enough to taste them. I tried to kiss her softly. I did, but there was something about her that made me desperate, and I kissed her harder.

Her hands slid around to my lower back. Her fingernails dug into me, and I groaned. I used my hand in her hair to turn her head to the side, so that I could kiss her deeper. Up until now she’d allowed me to kiss her, but as I pressed her harder against the wall, she came fully alive. Her tongue tangled with mine, and her mouth pushed harder against my own. My blood rushed south so fast that I felt dizzy. The only thing keeping me steady was my hand propped on the wall behind her, but even so I fell farther into her, until every part of my body was aligned with hers.

It still wasn’t close enough. My winter clothes kept too much space between us. I wanted to conquer every piece of her. The way her hips pressed up into mine made me believe in this neighborhoodS drink she felt the same way. The kiss was even better than I could have imagined. Her mouth tasted as exotic as she looked, and my every nerve ending seemed to be standing at attention. Her fingers dug harder into my lower back, and I was on the verge of losing my mind. Her teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I used the hand in her hair to tug her head back just enough that I could move my lips to her neck. Her skin was just as smooth as I’d dreamed. I could spend eternity tasting her.

What was that saying—I could die happy? This was so beyond that. I could never be satisfied. I would always want to kiss her again. She was addictive.

“Okay.” Her voice was thick, raspy, and it only made me want her more. “Point proven.”

I laughed into her neck and nipped the curve of her collarbone. Her back arched, and her breasts pressed deliciously against my chest. She was so responsive. Every time I did something she liked, her nails pressed deeper, and her breath caught in her throat. I wanted to make her do that again and again.

“We have to stop,” she said.

Stopping was about as appealing as a bat to the kneecaps, but I did it. I lifted my head from her neck and looked into her dilated eyes. They were wide with shock or fear or something. Whatever it was . . . it wasn’t what I’d hoped to see in her expression. I stepped backward to give her some space.

Then she slapped me.

The sound of it echoed through the empty street, and it took me a few seconds to feel the sting through my buzz. I’d been slapped twice in my entire life, both of them by this gorgeous, maddening girl. Unlike the last one, this one I deserved.

She was taken. When I wasn’t looking at her, that thought was easier to remember.

I blinked, and turned back to her. She had her hands folded over her mouth in shock. She took a deep breath and said, “I am s





11

Cade

Max led me back inside the bar, and it took all of five seconds before Milo was at my side whistling. “Damn, hermano, I think you took that promise to get pissed a little too seriously.”

I rolled my eyes and said to Max, “This is my friend Milo. Milo, this is Mackenzie.”

That was for calling me Golden Boy.

Her head swung around to face me and she asked, “Are you looking to get in another fight tonight?” Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkling.

“No, I just like seeing you angry.” She pressed her lips together and glared, but a smile was poking through within a few seconds. God, when she looked at me like that I forgot completely about the splitting pain in my head.

When I turned back to Milo, he was looking between Max and me, grinning. “You bastard, did you knock out all four@A. His as commitments in one go?”

I was still leaning on Max, a little because I needed to and a lot because I wanted to. Her face angled up to mine and she asked, “What is he talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it. He’s drunk.”

I, on the other hand, had sobered up completely. I tried not to look disappointed as I removed my arm from around her shoulder.

“Thanks, Max. I’m good now.”

All I wanted to do was get home and take a long, cold shower, followed by a really hot one to ease the stiffness in my back and arms.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked. Her hands came up to rest on her hips . . . hips that I’d held in my hands before this all went down.

“I’m just going to head home and get cleaned up.”

Milo said, “Uh, Cade, you live at least twenty minutes away and your face is leaking. I think we should get you cleaned up here.”

Max’s fingers found my chin, and she drew my face down toward hers. “I’m going to get a first aid kit. Don’t you dare leave.”