Page 31 of All Saints: Pledge

His own shoulders relax in response, sure he's won. That's when I launch my full offensive. Body to body, I slam into him—the Rugby Twins have nothing on me. We collide with the book shelf, me grappling with his arms, to get him to let go of the book. It presses my face against his chest, and I refuse to note the solid muscle under my cheek.

Kendall reels, and we tip backward, sliding down to the floor. I have no purchase in my kitten heels, and go down with him. We land in a pile and tangle of limbs. Pencil skirts are not meant for straddling opponent's bodies, and the moment we come to rest, it registers that my skirt is nearly up around my hips, my bare legs on either side of Kendall's tweed trousers, his suspenders gripped in my hands.

The book lands near my knee and I lean over, sliding it across the floor toward my bag. I've won. Even if that victory technicallycame with the price of being halfway undressed in the Oxford Library.

My fascinator is askew, and my hair tumbles down over my right shoulder. Both our chests heave from the effort of the brief struggle. I attempt to get up but fail, and end up laying halfway on top of Kendall’s chest as my heels slip on the floor. I wriggle, trying to gain purchase. Kendall stops trying to reach the book and freezes under me.

Annnnndthat’swhen I realize we're in anextremelycompromising position. One I'm growing more and more aware of as the...er...landscape between us begins to harden and change. On the one hand, I've spent very little time with men, and it's fascinating to feel. On the other hand, I'm now acutely and mortifyingly aware that nothing lays between Kendall and me but my very thin panties and his zipper.

I double my efforts to rise, eliciting a hiss of pain from Kendall.

Shit. "Did I hurt you?" I ask, taking in his pensive face, eyes half shut.

“Yes,” he grinds out. And he shifts beneath me. I refuse to gasp as the material of his pants slide against me. It doesnotfeel good. This is pure biology. It's just a sensation. It's normal. But something must register on my face—he stops moving immediately, waiting for me to get up first.

There’s a moment of sheer satisfaction that foronceI’m in the power seat. I lean forward, because I just can't help myself. My face hovers just above his. "Good," I purr. And I shift again to push myself up off him, intending to walk out of this library a victor. His hands come up behind me, gripping my ass like he's a dying man grabbing a life raft.

“Careful,” he breathes. Fire races up from my middle, starting where his hands hold my hips in a vice hold against him, and up to my chest. He makes a move like he’s going totry to sit up, but all it does is slide me down his body. We both freeze again, but this time…there’s this sense of something else. Of potential energy, of an addicting high that wecouldchase if we were insane.

My breath rate increases, despite my desperation to remain unaffected. I should knee him in the crotch, grab the book and run. I should roll off of him, smack him in the face for grabbing my ass and report him to his father. I should…I shake my head, because somehow my gaze has dropped to his lips. Then to how he’s looking at me. His pupils have blown wide. He’s staring with such open hunger, it holds me transfixed.

It’s biology, it’s biology. I chant in my head. But really, at this point, one of us should have disengaged and ended thisbiologylesson. Neither one of us moves.

Slowly his hands relax on my hips, smoothing down over my ass in a, dare I call it a caress? What started as a compromising position has now morphed into something even weirder. As a counterpoint to my entire life with Kendall, making me feel singularly and particularly loathed, his gaze now makes me feel…singularly inevitable. Like he's been waiting his whole life to wind up in a pile with me on the floor of this library. What would it be like to just…give in? To see if kissing him feels the same as the night we kissed in the quad?

“Helena,” he rasps. I know it’s a warning. But I swear I hear a man surrendering. Iwin this round.

That insane notion is fuel to my lizard brain. The feeling building in my center wins out. I rock my body forward, trying to alleviate the sensation in my own center. His fingers flex, then smooth on my hips, slowly dragging me backward. It's the distance of a micrometer. An inch at most, but the friction undoes me.

“The contract,” Kendall breathes. But he doesn't stop me when I give into the building inferno and rock forward again.The friction of his tweed pants and his rock hard body beneath me are delicious. I swallow a moan as his fingers flex on my hips, pressing me further into him as I slide back down the inch to my starting point.

“We’re not breaking any rules. We fell.”

Beneath my hands, his chest rises and falls. We're both gasping like we're running. His eyes keep flicking from my face to my chest, so tantalizingly close to his mouth and back up. The want for him to kiss my breasts is so strong I have to stop myself from leaning myself into him.

His hands press me back up, and the head of his cock presses into my clit. At least, I assume from reading romance novels that this is what happens, because an electric zing rips through my body, traveling to my fingers and toes. This time, I can't stop the moan that escapes me. He twitches beneath me at the sound, and it's...God, it's beyond sexy. And it’s a revelation, how much I don’t know about men in general.

My eyes go wide, and I meet his gaze. “It can move? Like that?” My voice is breathy, I sound like I’m auditioning to read erotica. The looks he gives me makes it clear he’d be a willing teacher for all that I don’t know.

“We should stop.” And for a second I think he's going to toss me off of him, but his hands flex, and he grabs my ass through my skirt and writhes beneath me as I slide back down. “Fuck,” he growls, apparently unable to stop this train, either. “I can’t—I have never felt—” his eyes come up to meet mine in heated surprise. It fuels my fire to know that he’s as taken aback by this as I am.

Now there's no denying what is happening. We're grinding into each other in a building, blinding rhythm, and I have never, ever been so physically turned on in my life. Despite how we started, this isdefinitelyagainst the “no sexual contact” rules, and at the moment, I do not care one iota.

I shift with his balance, my body intuiting more than I can comprehend as I wring another groan from him. It’s like we literally cannot help ourselves. I’ve fully given over to my body’s instinct to chase this high. We stare at each other in startled mutual amazement. I'm panting and beneath my drenched panties, the friction starts to hurt. To be too much.

Kendall's voice, saying “you are mine,” slams into my mental memory. And God, in this moment, I almost believe it. Is it somehow true that cosmically I'm destined for my enemy? The person trying to destroy my life? The man playing games I don't understand? We’ve thrown pretense aside. We’re greedy now, fully locked into acceptance of seeing…whatever this is…through. I rock side to side now as he pushes me up and down, trying desperately for a fullness I'm lacking. I want another sensation, another motion. “I want…” I pant, not even sure what I’m trying to say.

He sits up, yanking me to his chest, and buries his head into my shirt between my breasts as I look up at the ceiling, relishing the feeling ofmoreof him. The additional pressure brings me closer to the precipice looming in front of me. Tossing all caution to the wind, I yank his hair, urging his face up to mine.

Our eyes meet, clouded with lust, and on his side, something wild and defiant. I don't understand it, but I assume I'm wearing a similar "fuck it" look, because his hands come up and grab my chest between us. His hands feelso good. I’m tipping over some proverbial edge…

And then the world ends. Or at least, my cell phone timer goes off with the sound of a thousand trumpets, right next to us on the floor. We freeze. Him with his head and hands between my breasts, me pressed onto his lap like my very existence depends on what he does with what his tweed trousers cover.

We both stare at the phone.

Distantly, I hear footfalls. Shit. Someone is going to come yell at me for having my cell phone on in the library. That’s enough to dash cold waterallover us.

I clear my throat. "We're going to be late for dinner."

---