Page 44 of The Off-Limits Play

Holy shit. She wants this.

The whimpering moan in her throat, the way her hand is gripping my shoulder… her legs are parted over my leg, and she’s pulling us together.

Bail, bail, bail! She’s obviously feeling better!

The alarm starts ringing and I quickly jerk back, making sure I stay planted on the bike and don’t move an inch. I don’t pull her back over me so she can straddle my waist and we can make out on my bike. I don’t stand up and lift her off her feet so she can wrap her legs around me.

My breaths are ragged as I gently push her away, then quickly glance down the street, wondering if anyone saw us.

Thankfully, the campus is quiet, most people tucked away for the night. It makes sense. It’s nearly two in the morning on a Monday night. Hardly high party time.

Nylah lets out a shaky breath, and I glance back at her. Her lips are glossy and a touch puffy from that kiss. I wince, waiting for her to tell me off for not asking permission first.

She enjoyed it, you douche! Look at her face!

I need to fix this fast. Clenching my jaw, I’m about to start the engine and take off when she touches my shoulder, then starts playing with the collar of my jacket.

“What was that for?” Her voice still has a tremor, but it’s deeper and just a little husky.

Sexy as fuck.

I sniff, shrugging and trying to play it cool. “Nothin’. Just, uh… wanted to taste ya.”

“Right.”

Her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe me, so I give her a pointed look and really drive it home. “Didn’t mean anything. I kiss a lot of girls.”

“Okay.” She nods, her lips flirting with a smile as she narrows her eyes at me.

Time to be an asshole. It’s what I’m best at, right? And it should put her off and make this whole dangerous path I’m walking disintegrate. Then things can go back to the way they should be.

Clearing my throat, I lift my chin. “Go on. Get going, Lady Limpalot.”

She gasps. “You did not just call me that.”

My insides scrunch into a pained wince, but I can’t let it show. She’s about to slap me or give me the finger, then tell me to fuck off.

I grab the handles of my bike, about to start the engine, when a surprised laugh pops out of her. The sound is so sweet and alluring, I have to stop and look at her.

She’s grinning and shaking her head. “You are such an asshole.”

“Aw, have you finally found a pet name for me? It’s not very original.”

She narrows her eyes again, and I’m gonna fucking fail this mission. How do I get this girl to hate me the way she should?

“I can come up with something way better than ‘asshole.’”

I snicker, a smile flashing across my lips before I can stop it. “Bring it on, Limpy.”

She giggles. “Challenge accepted, you little crapweasel.”

My nose wrinkles as I quietly let her know that’s way too lame.

With a tut, she nods and inches a little closer to me. Her soft breath fans across my cheek, and I suck in a breath, willing my fingers to stay locked around these bike handles.

“I’ll keep working on it,” she whispers, then trails her finger down my cheek, grabs my chin, and gives me another kiss.

Her lips are soft and sweet, her tongue brushing against mine with an authority I can’t counter.

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