Page 96 of Hate You, Maybe
But we’ve almost made it to the visitation, and Dex and I can’t afford to let our focus slip. For the sake of Mr. Wilford,the school, all our students, and the district—not to mention ourselves—we need to keep our minds on a successful evaluation.
After that, we can evaluate our lips.
“Ithinkyou need to look over these uniform pairings.” I show him the list of football players whose jerseys I predict will fit their theater kid counterparts. “Tell me if I got any matches wrong.”
“Hold on.” Dex bugs his eyes out. “Sayla Kroft is capable of making a mistake?”
“Rarely,” I smirk.
But you have no idea how much I want to make a mistake.
All the mistakes. Right now.
With you.
I shove the paper at him, andour fingers brush, sending energy singeing up my arm. When we both jerk our hands away, the list of names flutters to the ground, but we keep our eyes locked on each other.
“So clumsy,” he says with a teasingtsk. “You need to be more careful, Kroft.”
My eyebrow quirks. “You’reclumsy.”
“No. You.”
“Oh, really?” I square my shoulders, enjoying the sparks. “You are the most?—”
“Shhh.” He lifts a finger and ghosts the tip across my mouth. “You should stop talking now.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dex
Sayla sucks in a breath, her eyes flashing. Bright blue and utterly irresistible.
“You’re not the boss of me,” she whispers.
I drop my finger, and the bands of my self-control go weak. She gathers her lip under her teeth, and now I’m fumbling for the deep resolve I’ve been drawing on since the retreat. But instead of certainty and willpower, all that flares up inside me is desire.
There’s a heat in my chest, and the ropes of my gut go taut. Like my body’s full of guitar strings begging for Sayla Kroft to strum. “Resolve is overrated,” I say under my breath.
She goes up on her toes, her mouth just inches from mine, like she’s ready for whatever comes next. Like she wants it, too. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” I grit out.
She eases forward, her eyes zeroing in on my lips. “Well, that’s too bad, because I agree with you.”
“With what?” I groan.
She shuts her lids and whispers, “Resolveisoverrated.”
And then our mouths meet.
One of my palms lifts to cup her jaw, the other spreads against her hot cheek. We’re not going for soft, gentle contact here. This is a full-on battle of attraction. We’re on the same field, both playing to win. And any thoughts of losing I’ve ever entertained exit the building. I’ve completely surrendered to the taste of this woman, as my mouth slants over hers, drinking her in. Draining my will.
Drowning in the sweetness.
I slip one hand behind her head, moving her backward until we hit the wall, but my fingers bear the brunt of the impact, and I keep on exploring every inch of Sayla’s mouth.
Once I’m kiss-drunk on her lips, I slide a heated trail along the jut of her chin over to the base of her ear, teasing and licking at the spot just below where the lobe meets her neck. Sayla lets out a tiny gasp, and that’s all the motivation I need to gather her close and lift her whole body up.
