Page 48 of The Thought of You

My blood runs cold, and a chill skates down my spine. “I don’t do one-night stands, especially not when I have feelings for someone, no matter how damn frustrating that someone is.”

She purses her lips and tries to escape once again, but I can’t let her go until she hears me out. This might be my only chance to speak my truth.

“I want you for more than just one night, Lockhart.” I gather her hair into my fist and keep her face close to mine. “The next time I kiss you, I don’t want it to be because you think you have anything to prove. I have no interest in being your dirty little experiment.”

Her lips part, and she relaxes in my arms.

I grasp her hair until I’m sure my knuckles are white, and I tug her backward until her wide eyes lock onto mine. “The next time I kiss you, I want it to be because you beg for it. Because you ache for my mouth, my touch, my body, until you’re fighting for air. I won’t kiss you otherwise. And angel?” I dip my head low, my lips itching to connect with hers, especially now that I know how perfectly we fit together. “I can’t fucking wait for that moment.”

I tilt her upright until she’s steady on her feet, and I exit the room with echoes of her arousing gasp washing over me, fueling the spark she just ignited.

This is far from over.

chapter

fourteen

ADDIE

“And angel? I can’t fucking wait for that moment.”

Phantom caresses dance along my bottom lip from where I felt Owen utter that sinful sentence. It was a promise and a challenge and a dare wrapped in one tempting package.

And the way his lips brushed against mine when the word “fucking” left his mouth was the bow on said package.

It was the only time in my life when I fully expected my ovaries to explode.

My phone releases its shrill alarm for the third time this morning, and I tap the snooze yet again.

I’ve never done this before. On a normal day, my alarm goes off once, and I shoot out of bed like someone tossed a grenade onto it.

But it’s Monday, and I have no desire to kick off my morning routine with dancing in the shower to Taylor Swift, followed by enjoying a hot coffee while I get dressed for school.

Instead, I turn onto my back and blink at the ceiling while my alarm continues blaring as if I’m playing a game with myself to test how long I’m capable of enduring the god-awful sound before my eardrum bursts.

I tossed and turned for hours last night, and it wasn’t because of the raging storm outside. The howling winds felt alive, shaking the foundation of my house. The rattling trees knocked against my window as if they were begging to be let in, like they weren’t safe themselves out there.

None of the turmoil outside compared to the havoc inside.

All night, I was haunted by memories of Owen Conrad—the asshole.

I should’ve been taunted by the horrifying fact of knowing I came onto him, and he rejected me, but my subconscious was hearing none of that. No, my horny hoo-hoo wouldn’t stop tingling to the mental soundtrack of Owen’s growls, kisses, and scorching hot touches.

He pressed me against him until I could feel all of him, and dear, blessed Lord in heaven, what I felt between his legs was… huge.

And it was aimed right at me.

I miss the days when I didn’t know such a thing about him. When I didn’t yearn to feel his lips moving over mine. When I didn’t wake up moaning his name and asking him to kiss me harder.

When I ran out of the room at the Buchanan House to rejoin the rest of the reunion, no less than three people asked why my cheeks were so red. Maren, the sweet saint of a woman, asked if the stress of the last week had finally gotten to me. She thought I’d exploded but didn’t know it.

Maybe I did. Maybe that’s the only reason I kissed my worst enemy.

Actually, my worst enemy at the moment is my aching, embarrassingly desperate core.

“Fuck Owen,” I mutter, cursing him for the thousandth time since the reunion Saturday night.

I slap my phone until the alarm cuts off, and I toss the covers off me like a magician flips his cape around, as if to tell my bedroom “watch this trick.” I kick my feet over and stand, ready to show up to school and act totally normal, my best feat yet.

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