Last Christmas (Private 0.60) - Page 77

"A bet's a bet," she smiled, kissing his neck, running her fingers over his chest. "And I'm not a sore loser."

"We should get out of here," Thomas breathed. "Go back to my room."

He picked up his coat and started for the door, holding her hand in his.

"I want to do it here." She pointed meaningfully to Daniel's unmade bed and pulled her sweater off over her

head. "He deserves it."

Thomas smiled and dropped his coat back on the floor. He moved on top of her quickly, leaning her back into

the familiar pillows. He would die if he knew what she was doing right now. He would just die.

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"I like the way you think, naughty girl," Thomas said, hovering over her.

With a grin, Ariana pulled Thomas's warm body down on top of her. And even though she'd sworn to Daniel

Ryan that she would never lose her virginity in his dorm room, that's exactly what she did.

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TRAPPED

***It almost felt like a dream, like it hadn't really happened. Ariana relaxed into Thomas's strong chest and

closed her eyes, replaying the series of images in her mind like a silent movie on a projector screen. After

their first go in Daniel's room, they had sneaked back to Thomas's room and started all over again. This time,

it had been more romantic. More tender. "Wearing nothing but his boxers, Thomas had kissed her in front of

his door, then let her inside before pulling her sweater off over her head. She was naked underneath, but in the

dim light of his room, she felt totally safe. Secure. They had made love again, more slowly this time, and

Ariana had recorded every detail in her mind. Every touch, every kiss, every inch of him.

This was monumental. It was a day she would never forget. She wanted to remember every single thing.

Now the sun had set outside and the room was dark save for the light from the candles Thomas had lit before

drifting off to sleep.

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Behind her, he shifted slightly and she sank back toward him on his bed, smiling at the intimacy of it all.

Thomas was nothing like Daniel. He would never leave her feeling vulnerable like Daniel had. Her mother

would understand that. After what Daniel had done, she would have to.

Shifting uncomfortably in Thomas's single bed, she realized her fleur-de-lis necklace was digging into her

collarbone. She brought her fingers to her chest. The necklace had left a deep imprint of the flower in her

skin.

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