Page 197 of Forbidden Lessons

The guy definitely sees me coming, because when I get there, he’s already a few yards away.

Fucking yellow bellied?—

Someone grabs my wrist. Shouts, “Thank you!” over the music.

Only then do I realize what just happened.

Fucking molly.

Haven lets go of my wrist, and when I risk a glance over my shoulder, she has her eyes closed, dancing to the music.

I should go back to the platform.

And Haven should be on GAZ’s little party raft, wherever the hell theirs is. But I guess her and Melissa chose to be in the thick of things.

I’m not hating it down here either.

Just enough room to dance without knocking into one. The acoustics are a fuck ton better, with the speakers aimed into the crowd.

Plus, with my mask, the trash bag, and the body paint, Haven doesn’t seem to know it’s me.

I flex my hands, breathing deep as the music drops, fades. There’s a moment’s silence, and Haven opens her eyes like she’s wondering what happened to the party.

I’m between her and the DJ booth, so when she turns to the source of the now non-existent music, her eyes land on me.

On my mask.

The music starts up again, and every hair on my body stands to attention.

I fuckinglovethis track.

Haven shivers, her eyes closing, hands going to her hair. Her jaw clenches and releases as her head falls back.

Jesus, is she rolling?

What is even happening right now?

Just seeing her slip into such a state of ecstasy as the music pounds out of the speakers sends me on another delirious roll. I lean back, hands clenched into fists, and howl at the fucking clouds.

Around me, several guys and girls pick up the call, sounding like a pack of wolves trying to find each other in the dark.

When I look down, Haven’s grinning up at me from less than a foot away. She puts out her hand, laying her palm on my chest, and starts to dance.

I’ve never seen her body move like that.

Hips undulating in perfect rhythm with the pulsing beat, her shoulders shimmying, her bottom lip sliding between her teeth.

Her pupils are so blown out, her eyes look black.

I’m furious at Melissa for letting her get this fucked, but for all I know, this is a regular Tuesday night for Haven. The way she moves, this isn’t her first neon rodeo.

We’ve been apart for three years, and who the fuck knows what Haven’s been up to? From the little I’ve heard, she’s no stranger to a good time.

That contact on my pec feels like a live wire between us. I capture her wrist, keeping her skin flush with mine as I slide her hand down my stomach, around my waist, to my back.

I pull her close, and we lock together like a fucking blacksmith puzzle.

She turns her face away, her check pressed to my arm, and we grind against each other, her leg between mine.

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