My heart feels dizzy as hope breaks past sense and claims an early victory.
“You’re the only girl at Brighton—the only girl, period—who I want to kiss.”
He ruins me with his admission.
He also raises me.
My feelings are in a constant state of contradiction and imbalance that has me fully addicted and entranced to everything about him.
His bright blue eyes dance between my mouth and my eyes, then he starts to shake his head, but leans closer with another giant contradiction. “This will change things. If you ask me to kiss you, nothing will be the same. Not this time.”
“What changes?”
His eyes slowly shift between mine. “Everything. Everything will change because I want you in ways I can’t even describe. I want to own you, possess you, and claim you—I want to fucking free you, Chloe.”
He buries his fingers into my hair, his palm resting hot against my jaw. “People will come at you—want to be your friend, want to ask you for favors, talk about you behind your back, start rumors—it won’t be easy.”
I’m so entangled in his words about wanting to claim me that I can’t ask logic to take a seat and join in the conversation because desire cleared that space and is lighting the candles and turning on some sexy music. “I don’t care,” I tell him.
Regret flashes in his eyes. “Chloe…” His gaze starts to slip, and I can feel the distance as he works to pull himself away, though he hasn’t moved a single inch.
“Truth or dare?” I ask him.
He blinks, his blue gaze making a roundtrip pass over my lips again, making it increasingly difficult for me to breathe or think straight. A week ago, talking to him was difficult, now I challenge him to hold my stare and finally admit this is more than a game—more than we both want to admit.
“Dare.”
It’s the same choice he’s made throughout the entirety of our brief game, ensuring me he’d choose it again. “Kiss me.”
The air feels heavier as my dare echoes in my ears, my stomach pitched with nerves and fear of rejection.
His eyes sweep back to mine, and that desire and hunger I feel in the pit of my stomach is reflected in his blue eyes. My heart throbs, and my knees feel weak as I reach for him to balance me—anchor me—and bring him closer because I need to feel him everywhere.
He leans closer, and my breath catches.
Everything changes…
Claim you…
Only one…
I lean into him. His chest heaves against mine as his breaths drag against my cheek, the scent of whiskey hypnotizing me along with the beat of his heart against my chest. Then his hands close around my waist, and his lips come down on mine, and it feels like I’m floating as he takes my bottom lip between his teeth and tugs, his fingers grinding into my waist, pulling me closer. Or maybe I’m tugging him closer as my nails scrape against his black dress shirt, desperate to feel him and taste him.
He slants his lips over mine, his tongue sweeping across my lips, daring me to take more—to give more. I part my lips for him, and his tongue tangles with mine, and I taste the whiskey and absinthe and the sweetness from the sugar.
I groan, or maybe it’s him. I can’t tell anymore because as we collide in this moment, I think about cold welding: the effect in which two metals of the same type touching in space become permanently joined because of the absence of air. That is how I feel. Bonded to Tyler in a way I know will forever change who I am.
The weight of his body against mine is exhilarating and seductive, all heat and strength that disarms me as our kiss grows deeper.
“Let’s go,” I whisper as he kisses my top lip and then my cheek, my jaw, and my bottom lip, peppering them until I can’t recall what I said.
“To the hotel?”
I shake my head. “The VIP room.”
His eyes darken.
I kiss him fully on the mouth. “You said it’s private. No one can see anything.” I kiss him again. “Please.”
He growls, his teeth grazing the top of my ear. “You know what you’re asking for?”
“I want you.” I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life as I am right now, discussing having sex with Tyler. I would likely do it right here and now against this wall with everyone watching us if I wasn’t terrified my sister or Cooper might see. Nothing here seems taboo or wrong.
He threads his fingers with mine and sets his other hand on my hip, his fingers lazily tracing the line of my hip bone as he guides us toward the VIP room I’d told him hours before was unnecessary.
“We don’t want to be disturbed,” Tyler tells the bouncer. He nods with understanding and moves to the middle of the stairs as we ascend them, my heart and breaths growing lighter as though we’re gaining actual altitude with the short climb.
Tyler closes the door behind us. The room is dark, and the music and lights still throb through the space as the lounge looks out across the club. Sheer white curtains offer a veil of privacy. Apprehension steals my breath. Is everyone going to see me? Is Tyler going to go back to avoiding me tomorrow?
“We don’t have to do anything,” Tyler says, moving to stand behind me, his hands settling on my hips. His lips trace the side of my neck. “We can order a drink or go back down or leave. It’s up to you.”
“This isn’t just a drunk hookup?” I ask, turning my head to catch his gaze.
His eyes flash to mine, and then he’s kissing me again. He slides his hands into my hair as his tongue twists around mine for
