Very Bad Things (Briarcrest Academy #1)(42)

Maybe later tonight.

Leo was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom. He grabbed my elbow firmly, steered me back inside, and locked the door.

“This is becoming a habit for you,” I seethed, jerking my arm away.

“What do you have on?” he seethed back, glaring at my dress.

“You don’t like it? I didn’t think you noticed.”

He rubbed his face with his hands and then stared at dress. “If there was ever a f*cking dress I’ve ever noticed, it’s that one,” he muttered out. “You’re not wearing it to the party.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” I snipped.

“Nora. Please. You can’t go out like that without me,” he demanded more urgently, with less anger, and I dreamed I heard a bit of a plea in his words.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “You said you had to let me go. You walked away from me so easily,” I reminded him, feeling all the fight drain away, leaving only sadness behind. “If that’s true, then why do you care? Why are you trying to stop me?”

He groaned out loud and closed the distance between us fast, thrusting his hands deep into my hair. “I can’t stop this anymore,” he ground out hoarsely, pulling me against him. He tugged my face up by my hair. “This mouth is all I think about,” he whispered and pressed his lips to mine. While his hands held my head, his mouth dominated. Wild and raw, his lips sought mine over and over, claiming my mouth desperately, his hot tongue sucking and then dueling with mine. He bit at my lips, and I responded, our tongues in an erotic, open-mouthed tango. His lips glided across my jaw and down to my neck where he sucked harder and harder and then soothed the hurt with his tongue. I moaned.

This . . . this was a kiss. I never wanted it to stop. I never wanted his lips to leave my body. This was like when Prince Charming kissed Cinderella, only this prince was no gentleman; he was sexy and hot and played a guitar. Instead of riding on a black stallion, he drove a bad-boy Escalade. Instead of wearing a princely cloak, he wore tight True Religion jeans.

It was fairytale f*cking worthy.

“I want you like I’ve never wanted anything,” he said roughly, his lips moving to kiss my collarbone and the tops of my breasts.

“I’m yours,” I told him, arching my body closer to him, aching to feel him against my skin.

He pulled back and looked at me with hot, half-lidded eyes. “Show me,” he commanded, and I knew what he wanted.

With trembling hands, I reached up and eased the dress down until my breasts spilled out. I wanted to give him everything.

“Come here,” he said tenderly, pulling me close. He gazed at my tiny wings for a long time until, finally, he touched me. Softly, his fingers rubbed circles around my pierced breast, being careful around my nipple. “Gorgeous tits,” he murmured, his left hand finding my other breast and massaging hard, the dichotomy of the different touches making me gasp out loud. His heavy eyes watched me as he plucked my un-pierced nipple with his fingers. I threw my head back and whimpered in need.

“You like that?” he asked huskily, kissing my neck and moving down to my breast.

“Yes, Leo,” I breathed out as liquid heat shot straight to my core.

“You smell good, Buttercup,” he said gruffly, his hand drifting underneath my dress and skimming my outer thigh. His mouth closed around my nipple and sucked while his fingers brushed against my panties.

I dug my fingers into his hair, holding him against my breast as his tongue wrecked havoc on my body, sucking and biting. I panted as he slipped his hand under the waistband of my panties and reached around to palm my ass.

“Touch me,” I said desperately, wiggling around, trying to his get fingers to my front. I needed them inside me.

“Be patient,” he growled against my skin.

“Leo, love me,” I begged, rocking against him, needing the friction.

Abruptly, his hand stopped, and he pulled away, taking deep, gasping breaths. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to gain control. He eased me away from him, pushing me until we were no longer touching. “Wait a minute . . . shit, shit, shit . . . I went too far,” he said in a raspy voice, like he’d just finished a run. He bent over and put his head in his hands. “Fuck!”

I stood there, speechless.

He backed away from me and held his hands up. “Nora. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I yanked my dress back over my breasts, not caring that it hurt. “How can you be so condescending out there in the kitchen and then drag me in here and kiss me and then apologize for it.”

“I won’t kiss you again,” he said, rubbing his hands across his mouth, wiping it away.

I laughed disbelievingly. “Are you sure about that, Leo? I’ve seen how you watch me, so don’t act like that was nothing. That kiss was . . .” I paused, my brain searching for the right word. “It was epic and you know it.”

“It was a big mistake.”

I glared. I’d had enough of him, of his hot and then cold. And him pushing me away couldn’t all be about the age difference. Something else was keeping him away. But then, maybe it was all me. Maybe I was chasing him and bringing all this on myself.

I needed to get away from him, but because I’m a glutton for punishment, I couldn’t let it go. I said, “A psychic consultant? Really? Ridiculous, Leo, just ridiculous. She’s stupid on a stick.”