Page 8 of A Slice of Love

Because that’s what will happen the moment he kisses me. I know with every fiber of my being I will never, ever be the same again.

Which sounds incredibly stupid since we’ve hardly ever spoken to one another. It’s not for lack of wanting to. We simply can’t.

Jonas is…well, Jonas. He’s the quarterback of our championship-winning football team. He’s Mister Popular with all the typical things that come along with it—girls, parties, and mischief. He has thatitfactor, and he uses it to his advantage plenty. He’s untouchable.

I’m untouchable in other ways. My father is the town pastor, and my mother the principal. I’m Miss Perfect…but not in a good way. Everyone avoids me like the plague. We live in a small community; rumors already run rampant. Getting involved with the daughter of two of the most influential people in town? Not going to happen. Fear keeps everyone away.

Somehow, though, we found a way to break through our social statuses this year. Turns out we don’t need spoken words to get to know each other.

No. Our secrets are bled into the pages of a cheap notebook, making them lasting…binding.

Ours.

Nobody else. Just us.

Which is why IneedJonas to kiss me.

Now.

I’ve been waiting to feel his mouth on me for months.

“Will you kiss m—?”

The last word isn’t even out of my mouth before his lips are covering mine. His hot, hard mouth is pressing firm against my own. I don’t know anything about kisses because this is my first, but I’d dare to say he’s kissing me like he’s hungry and will never be satisfied again.

His touch is soft yet hard, primal but restrained.

He wants more.

Iwant more.

Like he can read my thoughts, he pulls away.

He rests his forehead against mine, his harsh breaths making his chest pump up and down in rapid succession.

“Frank, this weekend…” He swallows hard. “Thisisn’t what this is about. I’m just here for the project, to hang out with you without everyone staring at us like we don’t belong together. I’m not here for anything else. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything. I just—”

“Jonas?” I interrupt.

Another swallow. “Yeah?”

“Just kiss me again. If anything is too much, I’ll tell you. I just want you to kiss me like you’ve always wanted to kiss me.”

He lets out a sound that’s between a laugh and a groan. “No, Frank, you really don’t.”

“I do. I can make my own decisions. Don’t treat me like I’m so fragile.”

“But you are. You are fragile, and the last thing I’d ever want to do is break you.”

“You won’t, Jonas. I promise. So just kiss me.”

Another groan, only this one sounds more like a growl.

Without another argument, he hauls me against him, his hands running over my curves and down, down, down until they slide under my butt and he lifts me. On instinct—because it’s surely not based on experience—I wrap my legs around his waist.

I’m not stupid, and I’ve read plenty of romance novels I’m definitelynotsupposed to read. I know what I’m feeling between my legs is proof Jonas is loving the feel of his lips on mine just as much as I am.

Just like somehow, deep down, even though I didn’t plan it, I knew this weekend wasn’t just him coming over to work on our chemistry project.

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