Page 41 of Flipping the Script

His eyes flared with something that didn’t just look like rage.

“You’re just better at pretending you are.”

“Stop. Talking,” he ground out, his voice as rough as sandpaper and his chest shaking.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth?”

“You think you know so much about me?” he practically spat out. “You don’t. You only know what I show you.”

I laughed, the sound mocking and mean. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

“At least I’m not like you.” His hot breath fanned over my face as he shifted even closer. “I can control myself.”

“Really?” I tilted my head so our lips were only inches apart. “I don’t remember you controlling yourself when you were practically humping me in front of my cabin. When you had your tongue jammed down my throat. When youwhimperedfor me.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Make me.”

I didn’t know what I expected him to do, but shoving me into the tree and sealing his mouth over mine in a rough and dirty kiss hadn’t been it.

The suddenness of the move took me by surprise, and the breath left my lungs as my back slammed into the tree.

The pain mixed and mingled with arousal, morphing into something incredible and addictive as Jesse pressed me against the rough bark and kissed the shit out of me, his thigh between my legs and his hand tangled in my hair.

My mind went utterly blank, adrenaline and lust taking over the last of my faculties.

On instinct, I kissed him back, biting his lips and clawing at his big body as we fought for control. He tightened his grip on my hair, holding my head in place, and bit my lip hard enough that the tang of copper filled my senses.

Instead of snapping me out of whatever had taken hold of me, the pain and taste of blood only inflamed my need to not just consume him, but to be consumed.

I grabbed at the back of his shirt, yanking and pulling on the soft material as he ravaged my mouth with bruising kisses.

I’d never kissed someone like this, never felt this kind of insatiable need. Thank fuck he seemed to feel it too, otherwise that would be one more thing he could hold over my head.

Most of my hookups had been lukewarm at best. I got off, they got off, but that was about it. Even the few casual arrangements I’d been in had more of a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” vibe. No real passion, just mutual attraction and orgasms.

This was different. Wild and untamed and downright addictive.

He shifted his thigh, trying to force me to ride it. I pushed my hips out and dragged my dick against his. We were both as hard as steel, and stars exploded in my vision as I did it again.

He gasped into my mouth. I swallowed the sound and shoved my hands under his shirt, clawing at his back and scraping my nails over his skin hard enough I knew I was leaving marks.

He moaned and jammed his cock against mine, not quite frotting and not quite humping me. More like he was trying to punch me right through the tree.

Wanting more of his pleasure sounds, I sucked on his tongue and squeezed his ass through his jeans, the hard flesh feeling way too good in my hands.

He tore his lips from mine with another low moan that sent my nerves on edge and rained wet, open-mouthed kisses over my jaw, then down my throat.

My head was spinning, my brain barely registering that dozens of our high school acquaintances were less than a hundred feet away and anyone could hear or see us out in the open like this.

He fit his mouth over my neck and sucked hard. Heat bloomed out from under my skin as he ground our cocks together and hitched one of my legs over his hip.

The groan I let out was laced with need and way too loud. I hated how good he felt, but I was powerless to stop the energy between us. It was like being swept away in an avalanche. All I could do was hang on and hope I didn’t end up buried at the end.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered and jammed my hand between us to palm his cock. “Why does this feel so good?”

He growled deep in his chest and pressed into my hand, lifting his head to stare at my neck, his gaze hungry and a little triumphant. “No fucking clue.”

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