Wild(85)

            And I envied him that freedom.

            My breath caught as his hand slipped around to my bottom. He gave me a hard squeeze and then slipped down even farther, his fingers inching down my thigh to the hem of my dress.

            His voice continued in a husky pitch, “You should try it.”

            “Try what?”

            “Being an adult.”

            “I’m twenty years old,” I shot back, an awful feeling trickling through me.

            “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a number. Especially if you’re still acting like a scared little girl . . . too afraid to live the life she wants for fear of disappointing Mommy.”

            The languor that had been filling my body vanished. Fury blossomed inside my chest. Now I recognized that awful feeling . . . knew it for the fear it was. But he was right. That’s what infuriated me the most. I grabbed his hand and halted it where it had started to slide up the hem of my dress.

            “I’m a scared little girl?” I squeezed out from between him and the wall, thinking: watch me.

            I started marching back down the hall toward the living room, following the sound of music and voices.

            “Georgia, what are you doing?” The taunting quality had fled from his voice.

            “Going to get my kink on with some random guy,” I flung out.

            “You know you’re just proving my point.” He was following. His voice sounded like it was right behind me, so I walked faster—as much as I could in the stupid dress. “You don’t like hearing the truth, so you’re throwing a tantrum.”

            “Then that ego of yours should feel great about being right.”

            “Damn it, Georgia.” He grabbed my arm and swung me around. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you go into that room to hook up with someone else.”

            “Maybe you need to stop treating me like a little girl.” I cocked my head. “That’s what you’re doing. Bossing me around. Playing protector. I already have a mom and a dad.”

            “Oh, I’m perfectly aware that you have parents.” One of his eyebrows winged high. “Even thousands of miles away they still manage to control you.”

            I hissed a stinging breath. “I’m not Rachel. You’re not my protector. You don’t have to follow me around to make sure I don’t dive off the rails. I’m not going to swallow a bunch of pills.”

            It was a low blow. Hot color stained his cheeks, and I instantly regretted the words. I opened my mouth to say so, but his fingers flexed around my bare arm. “Oh, I know exactly who you are. No mistake there. I probably know you better than yourself.”

            He opened a nearby door and pulled me in after him. Shutting the door, he pressed me against it, his body aligning with mine, fitting against me so perfectly that the familiar ache was back, slamming into me full force. “I also know that all this fighting is just foreplay. This is what you really came here for.”

            His hips pushed into mine and I felt him there, his hardness nudging into where I most needed him. I shook my head even as a hot shot of joy raced up my spine. Why was I pretending? He was right. This was what I came here for.

            I grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him hard, punishing him with my lips, hating and loving his taste all at once. I licked my way inside his mouth, swallowing his groan deep inside myself.

            “That’s it.” He encouraged as I nipped at his bottom lip and sucked it deep before thrusting my tongue back inside his mouth.