Page 147 of The Forbidden Note

It’s almost like he can’t wait long enough to go all the way to my Lit class. Like he can’t survive if he’s not touching me.

The door slams shut. I hear the click of the lock and, in a blink, Zane is on me. His hands are everywhere and his hot, desperate lips clamp against the side of my neck and down to my chest.

I moan when his lips brush my skin, consuming me with a pleasure that balloons and swells inside me.

Zane drops to his knees, bunches my voluminous skirt and shoves it at me. “Keep that out of my way.”

I do.

He rewards me by obliterating every thought from my mind.

I groan, panting hard as he teases me.

The bright, hot thrum of agony tightens.

I dig my fingers into his hair, breathing in desperate, quick spurts.

The depravity of the moment consumes me.

The utter forbidden nature of being here with him… in a classroom like this…

It builds a steady pressure that has me quivering and then breaking into pieces, lights exploding behind my eyes. I don’t realize I’m being loud until Zane shoots up and smothers my screams with his kisses, keeping his hands occupied even as he sucks on my lips and pins me against the door.

When he pulls back, my hair is a mess and my body is throbbing.

It’s not enough.

I crave him.

All of him.

I don’t care about anyone passing by.

I don’t care about Harris or Jarod Cross.

Or even the mission.

But Zane’s phone rings before we can go any further.

He looks annoyed when he checks the screen.

And then he goes pale.

I lean forward and he turns the phone toward me.

A cold wash of ice runs over my back when I read Dutch’s message.

Hall is here. I think there’s going to be trouble.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN

GREY

Hall’s appearance at the dance isn’t going to change the plan, but it does make me more anxious. With the increase in security guards as well as their unexpected firepower, we don’t need any more unknown variables thrown into the mix.

Still, my mind can’t fully process Dutch’s warning or what that means for tonight.

I’m still shaking from the after-effects of Zane’s wicked caresses. He’s standing beside me, his hot breath on my neck and his wicked hand pressing into the door, caging me in on the right side. The warmth of his other hand on my hip is almost liquid-fire.

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