Page 22 of Pretty Little Lies

“I wasn’t the one who got the drink.”

“And you need someone to bring you something in order to kiss them?”

He smirks. “Amongst other things.”

Ew.

Especially when he’s probably thinking of all the waysotherwomen have shown their appreciation.

I’m sure it’s been plenty.

And that pisses me off, even though he’s my fake boyfriend. Because I won’t stand for cheating with some other bitch he’s fucking or flirting with in public when we’re fake together.

This is so fucking stupid.

“Then what do you suggest?” Levi solicits when I don’t respond.

I scoff. “Um, I suggest you kiss me like a man.”

“I don’t think so.”

Ouch.

And it’d hurt if I gave a fuck but, then again, Levi is used to messing around with hoes, groupies, and blondes.

I’m none of those things.

Unless you want to count the movie theatre scene with Reeve and Torin, but that’s on them. I didn’t throw myself at their feet and ask them to touch me.

“Suit yourself,” I mutter, rising on my tiptoes to reach his lips.

From the outside, it probably looks like I’m teasing him, and I am. He’s not about to reject me over some silly-ass plan about putting his claim on me and making me work hard for it.

He can kiss my whole ass with that shit.

My lips skim the stubble of his cheek, pressing a soft kiss there before making my way to the corner of his mouth. Cupping his elbow, I plant another one at the crease, feeling the warm exhale Levi releases between his lips.

One small move to my right, and we’ve crossed some sort of line. I don’t know of any guy and girl duos who call themselves best friends and make out without starting some shit, but Levi and I are different. We’re headstrong and our feelings run deep for each other.

One little kiss isn’t going to shatter that.

Inhaling, I clasp his bottom lip with mine and kiss him. Levi doesn’t move an inch, maybe permitting me the space and pace I need to make it comfortable for me, but he’s the only man I’d feel unworried with in the sense that he won’t slaughter me afterward.

My mouth molds with his as Levi slowly follows me. My free hand slithers up the back of his neck and then through his short hair. Our noses brush against each other’s as I continue on, stealing one kiss after another until it’s natural and mind-numbing.

I don’t hear the music anymore.

I just feel how collected my body is while not thinking of who this is and how weird it would be if we really talked it all out.

Mindlessly, my tongue slides between his lips, and the grip on my hip tightens, convincing me to pull away until Levi’s palm cups the back of my head and deepens the kiss.

That’swhen everything changes.

When my body isn’t complacent but buzzing with curiosity and rebellion. Levi’s roleplay in this act has sent a surprising surge through my veins and I’m on fire. Something about this feels oddly normal and soothing, but it couldn’t be because of anything else other than Levi being a damn good kisser.

His tongue tangles with mine, and I melt against his hard chest and torso. If Torin doesn’t buy this, I’m not fucking Levi on top of a table to prove we’re dating.

Except that would probably outrank any crazy shit Levi has done with any other girl in his lifetime.

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