One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

Drawn to her when she’s like this, I take several steps in her direction.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she stammers when I invade her space.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” she chastises. “Typical.”

“Oh, baby, I’m listening, but your body is saying something your mouth isn’t.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?” She props her hand on her hip in agitation.

“How much you want me, too.”

I don’t give her the time to deny it before my lips are once again on hers. Instead of shoving me away like I expect, her fingers scrape across my scalp as she scrambles for purchase in my hair. This kiss is nothing like the one we shared the other night. That one was slow and filled with promise. This one is fierce and brimming with hate and anger. Only the animosity rushing through her veins isn’t about me taking something she doesn’t want to give. No, the way her tongue battles with mine, it’s clear she’s upset with herself for wanting it as much as I do.

“Dalton,” she pants against my mouth when we come up for air, but I don’t let her push me away this time.

“Shh,” I urge against her mouth before pressing even closer.

I ignore the dart of pain in my wrist when I lift her from the floor. In the next second, I have her legs around me, and her back pressed to the front door. My cock is at full-mast, but I don’t grind it against her like my brain is urging me to do. She admitted that our kiss was her first, so it’s obvious she’s a virgin. I’m already crossing a line that will give me trouble at a later date. I won’t push things that far right now.

So as much of a gentleman as I can be in this situation, I keep my mouth on hers and my hands a respectable distance from her ass.

“Dalton,” she moans again, and this time it’s accompanied with her fingers ripping at my hair.

“Jesus, baby,” I moan against her neck, licking at the raging pulse point under her ear.

“Dalton!” she yells this time. “Stop!”

I pull my head back immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me down.”

I swallow the ball of emotion in my throat. “Piper, please don’t do this again. Don’t shove me away and pretend we don’t have chemistry.”

Her eyes flutter closed, and her chest heaves with sharp breaths. “Please let me go.”

“You enjoyed kissing me,” I remind her as I let her feet lower to the ground.

“I did,” she admits. “Too much.”

She clears her throat before bending to grab the strap of her backpack that must’ve slid off her shoulder at some point.

“We can take things slow,” I tell her. So long as she isn’t walking away because she regrets it, that’s something I can work with.

“I have to go.”

She walks out and leaves, but she doesn’t reject my offer completely, and that’s the single thing I hold onto.Chapter 24PiperI feel like the biggest jerk in the world as I walk to my house.

I’ve left Peyton in a lurch. She has so little time before her test, but staying in that house with him isn’t possible.

She can come over here and work on math if she wants. I need to get myself out of the danger zone.

As expected, my house is as silent as a tomb when I enter. My parents have already left for work, and I’ll have the entire day to stew over what I just let happen, again, with Dalton Payne.

Take things slow, my foot. There was nothing slow about the way he lifted me and propped me against his front door. We were both traveling at the speed of light when he pressed his mouth against mine.

I’m angry at myself for enjoying the warmth of his lips on mine, and I hate that I admitted that out loud to him. He shouldn’t know these things. It’ll only get me in trouble.

My palms itch, remembering the texture of his hair, and my body aches for the promises he never even said.

Dang it!

Why does he get to me? Do I react this way to him because my aching heart needs some form of positive to hold onto?

Needing a voice of reason, I drop my backpack by the door and fly up the stairs. If there’s a person on this earth that can talk me down from the ledge I’m teetering on, it’s Frankie.

“Hey,” comes her sleepy voice when I call.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah,” she grumbles.

“You’re usually up with the dawn,” I remind her when she sounds agitated about her sleep being interrupted.

“Back home, I actually have things to get out of bed for. It sucks here, Piper. I figured summer would go by faster if I slept more.”

“I don’t think that’s healthy,” I hedge.

“I’m not depressed.” She yawns. “No, that’s not true. I’m utterly depressed. I want to come home.”