So. Long(143)

Her jaw hardens, and she grinds her teeth. “Well I’m sorry to have spoiled your summers. Excuse me if I’m not a stick figure, plastic doll you can ogle.”

I want to do way more than ogle. “No. You’re anything but a stick figure, that’s for certain.”

Her pearly-pink lips part as though she’s searching for a comeback. She presses them together, her blue eyes flashing.

She stalks to me, poking me in the chest. “Let me tell you something, you arrogant jerk, I will do whatever I want, whenever I want. If you don’t like it you can stick it up your—your—your bung hole.”

I grab her hand, shaking my head and laughing. “My bung hole? You’re so uptight; you can’t even say the word ass, can you?”

Mo swings away, pulling out of my grasp, turning her back to me. “I can say anything. I choose not to. Just leave already. I don’t have the energy for this crap.”

I step behind her, sliding my finger under the strap on her sundress. God, what I wouldn’t give to slide it down and kiss from her shoulder over to that little birthmark on the back of her neck.

Instead, I do what I have to do. “You should probably dress a bit more conservatively too. You don’t need to show so much skin.”

She lets out an exasperated breath, turning to me, her mouth open enough to fill me with the urge to cover it with my own.

She says, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“With my parents gone, and no Rachel here, it looks bad. And you know my father—heaven forbid we make him look bad. It might slow down the millions filling the coffers every week.”

She gasps. “Since when have you worried what your dad thinks? It seems to me you’ve done everything you can to embarrass him and tick him off.”

“Maybe I have. So what?”

“So now you’re worried about how you and I living next door to one another looks? I mean, it’s not like we’re under the same roof or anything.”

Thank God for that small favor. I’d live with a constant hard-on. I’d probably have to go to the emergency room on a weekly basis for having an erection lasting more than four hours, like they warn about on those commercials.

Really, I only care what my dad thinks about Mo and me, and our non-existent relationship. And I only give a shit about him because he’s a control freak who, at the moment, holds the keys to all of our futures. He dictates there is no relationship. None whatsoever in his words.

I prop my hands at my waist. “Just do what I say and life will be so much easier for both of us this summer.” And I won’t have to take so many fucking cold showers.

“Can you please—just—look—there are only a few weeks until you go back to school. I’ll stay out of your way. I’m sorry you’ve decided you hate me, but—can’t you leave me alone?”

Hate her?

Her words take hold of me, like a vice around my gut. They drive me to act. I rush her, pushing her against the wall, holding her arms above her head, my hand on her wrists.

Eyes wide, her mouth opens slightly. It’s as if she’s begging for my kiss. Her chest heaves, rubbing those full tits against me as she whispers, “What are you doing?”

I run my knuckles down her cheek. “This.”

And I break the rules, like I’ve wanted to do every waking hour since I saw her two weeks ago. Hell, I’ve wanted this since that first summer she lived here.

I skim my mouth across hers.

Damn. Sweet as hell, like cotton candy.

Claiming another taste, I slip my tongue along the seam between her lips. When she opens on a gasp, I take full advantage and slant my mouth over hers, delving in to savor the flavor.

I close my eyes, inhaling her summer scent, all honeysuckle and sunshine. She squirms. I push my knee between hers and secure her with my body, which gives me a raging fucking erection.

Moving my hips, I rub my cock against her. “Does this feel like hate to you?”

She stills, her pupils dilating. A little noise at the back of her throat, a cross between a moan and an exhale, hardens my dick even more. Her heart thuds through her chest into mine.

I dip again and pull her lower lip into my mouth, sucking and nipping. She leans her head back as I move closer, letting my body flatten her on the wall. I thrust my fingers into the hair behind her ears, tangling them there.

Her hands come to my chest and curl against my heart as she returns my kiss. Her tongue plays along, sliding against mine, sending signals to my cock, saying it should prepare for entry.

With my hands fisted in her silky tresses, I pull her head back and deepen the kiss, memorizing the texture of her mouth and her sweet flavor. When I break away both our chests heave and our breaths are short. Her lips are swollen from my kiss—our kiss—and I want to kiss them again.