“Shithead.” The word sounded like an endearment, our usual bickering turning into something new and sweet.
He pulled me tighter, fitting our hips together. I pretended to stretch my legs, moving against him, slow and languid.
Bryce’s breath caught. “God, I hate you.” His lips moved against my neck.
“I know you worship me, but ‘Courtney’ is perfectly fine.” I let the nonsense leave my mouth, unsure if it made sense because all I could focus on was the feel of his body against mine.
He caught my waist, stilling me. “I don’t worship the devil.” His teeth grazed my ear, and desire pooled low in my belly. “But you sounded pretty worshipful yourself when you moaned my name last night.”
“I’m incapable of feeling pleasure when you’re around.” Every one of my nerves buzzed and tingled in—you guessed it—pleasure.
“I feel the same.” Slowly, he shifted his hips, pressing against me so I could feel him, hard and unmistakable.
And, oh my god. He really did feel the same as me, though not in the way we both claimed. That knowledge loosened my restraint. My pulse drummed white-hot between my thighs.
“You feel the same?” I managed.
“You know I do.” His words were rough and low in my ear. I never would have suspected the anxious accountant next door had a feral sex voice that could melt me. “Every minute spent with you feels like an hour, but not in a good way.”
It was as though we both believed that, so long as we continued to verbally insist that we despised each other, anything we did to the contrary wouldn’t count.
“For perspective,” Bryce went on, “given the choice between sex with you and sitting through a distant relative’s graduation ceremony, I’d take the graduation.”
I clenched my jaw so I wouldn’t turn into a whimpering, begging mess. “If that random french fry everyone has lodged under their car seat were a person, it would be you.”
“A delightful and unexpected snack?”
All I wore was the shift I’d been wearing under my dress, and it slipped up, skimming my upper thighs. Bryce’s hand trailed to my hip, and he sucked in a breath when he discovered me naked underneath.
“Unwanted, forgotten, soggy, gross, flaccid,” I spat through my teeth.
“Uh-huh,” Bryce murmured, slow and soothing. He slipped his hand to my inner thigh, and I arched against him.
“Given the choice between sex with you and helping a friend move, I’d—”
His fingers tightened. “Don’t. That’s too far.”
“I’d help the friend move,” I gasped.
“You’re awful.” His teeth found the back of my neck, and he nipped lightly, sending my every hair on end.
“Maybe you had a point this morning.” The words tumbledfrom my mouth in a breathy rush. “I mean, I tried being kind to others for twelve whole hours, and I’m still not beloved by all, so—”
Bryce moved so quickly I barely had time to register it, flipping me onto my back and rolling on top of me. Firelight glinted off his bare chest. His eyes were dark, glazed with lust. “For the sake of the world, yeah?”
“Yeah, yes,” I said. “To awaken our magic. To save the world. Just a physical thing, no strings attached.”
“Yes. Good.”
“Good.” Tugging him closer, I ground against him.
“Good,” he choked out, breath hot against my jaw. His nose skimmed over my cheek. He dipped his head, lips angled for my mouth.
My hand shot between our faces. I stared at his beautiful, soft, tantalizing lips in horror. “No kissing.”
“No kissing?” Bryce repeated against my hand. He pulled back. “What am I supposed to do with my mouth?”
“A moment of silence for your past lovers.”
