Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,83

all my self-control. Suddenly, the slow kiss turns reckless, our tongues tangling, our bodies moving.

“Is this okay?” I ask as I grasp the bottom of her shirt.

She bobs her head up and down, and all of my reservations crumble as I yank her shirt off. Her bra soon follows, and I push back and look down at her. Her brown hair is a halo around her head, her big eyes have never looked more beautiful, and her chest rises and crashes with every breath. When my eyes descend to the shiny diamond above her belly button, I bite back a moan.

Holy shit.

I skim my fingers across it, and my cock gets hard as hell as she shivers.

“When did you get this?” I ask, tracing a path down her stomach.

“About a year ago … Wynter talked me into it.” She bites down on her bottom lip, grasping the blankets as I reach the waistband of her jeans. “Oh, my God, Beck, that feels so good.”

I just about lose it right there. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” I slip my fingers down the front of her jeans and press my lips to hers.

Perfect.

That’s what this moment is.

Maybe, if we never come up for air again, we can stay this way forever.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Willow

I can’t believe this is happening. Okay, maybe I can. Deep down, I think I might have known all along that a piece of paper couldn’t stop where Beck and I were heading. I was just procrastinating the inevitable. I could’ve fought this longer … Maybe. But when he said all those things—those wonderful things that made my heart pound in my chest and made that crack in my heart heal a little—I didn’t want to fight it anymore. I wanted to have him. I needed to have him. The need scared me because wanting and needing are two different things. Wanting, you can live without. Needing is like air. You can’t live without it.

I don’t want to live a life without Beck.

I want him.

I want to feel safe.

Safe.

Safe.

Safe.

That thought races through my mind over and over again as he kisses me passionately with our chests pressed together. His fingers are inside me, pushing me to that starry place again. I’ve lost all control, and I don’t know what to do about that except enjoy this moment. When it’s over, then I’ll focus on the next. And so on and so on. Sure, the uncertainty of my life scares the shit out of me, but knowing I’m not alone makes it a bit easier. I don’t just have Beck. I have my friends.

I’m not alone.

People care for me.

And I care about them.

I care about Beck.

I care about him so much.

More. Than. Anything.

My pulse speeds up at the thought, but I fight back the panic and focus on those stars again. Those wonderful, blissful, goddamn amazing stars.

His fingers start to slow as I return to reality, his lips leisurely moving against mine as if we have all the time in the world. When his lips finally break away, he touches his forehead to mine with his eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

I trace a path up and down his spine. “I’m perfect.”

His lips twitch into a smile. “It’s nice you finally realize that.”

Shaking my head, I lightly pinch his side. He doesn’t even flinch. I do the movement again, doing a little tickling, and he remains unfazed.

“Try all you want,” he says with a cocky grin, “but you won’t get me.”

“Wanna bet?” I ask with my brow arched.

He sits back with his hands out to his sides. “Go ahead and try.”

“Fine. I will.” Grinning, I sit up, push him down to the mattress, and straddle his waist. Then I tickle him everywhere. Well, almost everywhere.

He stares up at me with his hands tucked under his head and a lazy grin on his face. “You missed one spot.”

He doesn’t think I’ll do it. I don’t really want to do it … well, sort of. Okay, I kind of do. I’m just feeling a little shy about it.

I sit back, staring down at him. “You don’t think I’ll do it?”

He chuckles, grinning smugly. “No, I don’t, but the determined look in your eyes is really fucking adorable.”

I think about all those times he tickled me, especially the time he made me almost pee my pants, and suddenly, I really want to prove him wrong. I don’t know what pushes me to go through with it, whether all the kissing has made me lose my sanity,