The thrill of doing something wrong, waiting to be caught in the act, always seemed more exciting than sex. Maybe there was something wrong with me, an inner sickness that I needed to address. For whatever reason, those small victories would get my juices flowing.
We yell-laughed, skirting around innocent bystanders, as we made our victory lap. Oblivious to my surroundings, my celebration ended faster than it had begun as I crashed headfirst into a thick wall of hunky man flesh. It happened so fast that I hadn’t had time to brace myself for impact, doing a half flip along with him. He landed on his back with me face-planting on top of him, my breasts pressed against his chin.
Of all the people to bump into, it had to be Luca Marchese. His cocky grin made my lip curl with revulsion even though he seemed to have the opposite effect on my nipples. One glance from him, and they betrayed me.
“Hey, princess.” His voice was deeper, sexier, than I remembered from class.
I blushed ten shades of pink from my cheeks to my neck, distracted by denim-blue irises set under dark brows. I rolled my eyes, attempting to peel myself off his bare chest, but he grabbed my wrists.
“Not so fast. I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you shit.”
I wiggled free from his grasp, straddling him without meaning to. I held his arms flat against the grass. Our faces were inches apart as I hovered over him, the sexual tension burning between us like a lit match. We shared a short-lived moment until his eyes found my breasts again, and he winked.
“Perv,” I said through clenched teeth.
Lean muscles brushed against my legs as he moved.
“What? You can’t fault me for checking you out”—he tilted his head to the side, his gaze falling over each of my curves—“especially when you’re shoving some of your best features in my face.”
He propped himself up onto his elbow and reached for my waist with his other hand, but I swatted his hand before he could touch me.
“You’re a feisty one. Got a mouth on you, too.” A fire blazed behind those beautiful blue eyes. “What I’d like to do with that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, rolling his tongue over his lip.
Damn, he had nice lips, both full and perfect. Every part of me wanted to lean in and kiss him and shove my fingers through his dark waves. No boy had ever affected me this way. But he was a man, not a boy. With radiant olive skin, chiseled features, and toned in all the right places, he could be a model.
My breath hitched at his comment.
I wasn’t sure, but I swore I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh, which should have freaked me out. Instead, I looked down, irritated that it turned me on more than I cared to admit.
He followed my gaze to his crotch and grinned, confirming my suspicions. “You should come to Delta Sig’s annual beach party. The less you wear, the better.”
“Well, you know what they say. Less is more.” My strange attempt at a joke only fueled the tension between us. “But, no, thanks.”
Tiny bumps ran down my arms and legs, a result of our close proximity. And, of course, he noticed the effect he had on me. He didn’t skip a beat.
Now aware of my body and how it reacted to him, I needed an escape. I stood over Luca, desperate to stop the electricity pulsating through me. Every part of me ached for him, craved his touch. Since I’d knocked him over, I stretched my arm out to help him up, and he accepted. I didn’t have the right to be a total bitch, maybe just a partial one.
Luca wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, the rest of his bare skin glistening in the sunlight. Eye contact proved to be too much for me.
He picked up the pigskin at his feet and pushed a hand through his cropped black hair. Luca had thick hair that moved back into place, like those people in shampoo commercials. With the football held against his hip, he could have been posing for the cover of a magazine, one I would have shamelessly hung on my wall.
I recognized the boy from Broad Street walking toward us in a Phillies baseball jersey. As our eyes met, he folded his arms over his chest.
“You rich bitch,” he said, his voice coming off like a growl. Cold and calculated, his hardened stare was similar to that of a trained killer.
What was it with Philly boys? They were so rough around the edges, like rabid dogs ready to claw their way out of a cage.
Luca pushed me behind him, his hand on my hip, sparking a new level of excitement within me. I damn near salivated on his tan skin as he came to my defense.
“Talk to her like that again, and you’ll be picking up your teeth off the ground.”
The guy moved his jaw back and forth, drawing attention to his cleft chin, and cracked his neck. No way was he close to backing down. Idiot.
“I’ll talk to her however the fuck I want to. Stay out of it. Bitch threw a soda in my car window.”
I slid out from Luca’s shadow and stepped between them. “You almost ran me over. Maybe you should watch where you’re going next time.”