Page 131 of Pretty Little Lies

“Waiting for you.” My lips mindlessly curl at his admission. “When are you going to turn around to kiss me?” His fingers slightly dig into my jeaned pelvis.

Without much effort on my part, I slowly pivot, while Reeve keeps his greedy hands on me, pulling me closer so I’m flush against his chest.

And I fucking swoon, people.

That effortless smirk that lines his cushy lips runs all the way up my body like an inferno. His hazel eyes, which are locked and loaded on me, develop nothing but the need for him to take me somewhere and press kisses and drag of his tongue all over my body.

I want to run my fingers through the thick locks of his sandy blonde hair and expose his neck so I can just suck on him.

“Why do you look like you want to fuck me?” Reeve quips, a wider lift of his mouth alluding that he approves of the action and idea. “Did Torin not do a good enough job when you ran into him last time?”

“He didn’t fuck me,” I reply, keeping my eyes locked on his. “But he wanted to.”

Reeve steps closer, if that’s even possible, biting on the inside of his bottom lip. “Yeah? Then what are you waiting for, McQueen?”

You.

The word lodges in my throat because my secret agent persona took off the moment I fell into Reeve Stanton’s gaze.

It won’t betray him.

It won’t break his heart either.

Becausehehas one.

The goal is to bring Emilio down by getting closer to the boys so that it doesn’t look obvious.

But, what I didn’t factor in was Reeve.

I already knew Torin was going to be a pain in my ass. That he was going to try to claim me for his own. Yet, I didn’t expect him to watch me fuck his best friend in the backseat of his car either.

I hoist myself up onto my tiptoes, towing the space along with me when I ask, “Do you have somewhere we can go?”

His fingers immediately interlace with mine as he pulls me from the dance floor and through the packed set of people surrounding it.

I saw the black marbled stairs leading upstairs, expecting to go up them, but we move around toward the back of the house and through the dining space adjoining the kitchen.

I’m not able to fully examine it because Reeve is guiding me down a decently sized hallway and through the threshold of a door, where red LED lights are framing the edge of the walls, illuminating downward on random band posters, pictures from an old Polaroid, and a tall shelf full of records and CDs on top. In the middle of the ceiling is a black quilt with two skeletons holding each other closely right above a mattress.

Fuck.

This screams Reeve.

I hear the soft click of the door close before I’m promptly twirled around and gently shoved back into it.

Reeve comes down at the same spot he was in on the dance floor, but this time, his mouth latches onto my already warmed skin and teases the flesh there.

“I like your room,” I mutter, finding a Staind poster over his mattress. There’s no frame, just a box spring and mattress shoved in the corner. “Why does it look like you just moved in?”

“Because I don’t give a fuck about furniture. And I only need a mattress to fuck you on.” His fingers begin undoing the button of my jeans while his tongue licks and tastes my neck like it’s a sweet treat. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever brought in here.”

Oh my God, please tell me he’s lying.

“Why?”

My pants are heaved over my ass and Reeve wastes no time sliding his fingers down between my pelvis and the fabric of my panties. “Because I don’t like anyone like I like you.”

I’m done.

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