Page 11 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

With his hands on my waist, Theo guides me backward until my back hits the wall with a quiet thump. It takes my breath away but makes my pulse go wild.

“Shit,” I whimper between kisses.

I need more.

He nips at my bottom lip. Probably to keep me quiet when we both know it’ll only spur me on. The feeling shoots straight between my thighs. He tears his mouth away and presses his forehead against mine. But even that isn’t gentle. It’s rough. Bruising. Forceful.

“This is what it's like to kiss a guy like me––a guy like anyone you meet at these parties,” he grits out. “It isn’t soft and sweet and shit. You should remember that.”

The warning in his voice is loud and clear, but I ignore it.

Maybe it’s the remaining alcohol in my system. Maybe it’s the taste of Theodore Taylor still clinging to my tongue. Maybe it’s the girlish dreams that’ve been taunting me over the past five years since I looked at Theo with rose-colored glasses. Whatever it is, I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t want this moment to disappear. I also don’t know what to say. I liked the kiss. I liked it a lot. I kind of want to keep doing it. In thirty seconds or less, he blew apart every fantasy I’ve ever had about another guy. Honestly, the bastard obliterated them.

“But guess what, Blake?” he adds, his hands gripping my waist, his fingers flexing.

“What?” I breathe.

“I think you’re full of shit.” He laughs dryly. “About your experiences over the last year.”

My experiences?

I blink slowly.

Oh. Right.

“What about my experiences?” I ask, my voice nothing but a whisper.

“You don’t kiss like an experienced girl.”

Aaaand, there’s the dagger to the chest I’d been expecting.

I pull away slightly, reality crashing into me like a freight train. “Excuse me?”

“I said, you don’t kiss like an experienced girl,” he repeats, his gaze darkening.

“And how do I kiss?”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as his attention dips to my bruised lips for a split second. “Like an innocent little virgin.”

If he’d have slapped me, it would’ve hurt less.

But I don’t let him see it. I refuse to.

Because he’s right. Compared to the puck bunnies I know he’s had sex with, I am innocent. Hell, even without them as a comparison, I’m still innocent. Truth be told, he hit the nail on the head, describing me perfectly.

An innocent little virgin.

But it isn’t fair for Theo to throw it in my face or to make me feel self-conscious for my lack of experience.

Screw him.

“And it’s a bad thing?” I volley back. “That I kiss like an innocent little virgin?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Not necessarily. Does make it a little difficult, though.”

“Make what difficult?”

“Hooking up,” he clarifies with a devilish smirk. “Watching an innocent little virgin fumble to figure out what they’re doing isn’t everyone’s thing.”

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