Clique Bait - Ann Valett Page 0,81

me with a desperation, a need, to close the distance between us.

The small space between us had ignited.

William’s hands were hard against my waist, the tips of his fingers digging into my skin in a bid to draw me close, even closer than the chest-to-chest standing space already brought us. His lips were fast against mine, deepening our kiss in seconds, fueling the fire that I had started.

The whispers in my mind that reminded me I shouldn’t be doing this had been dulled by euphoria. I was captive to William’s scent, his shoulders, his hot breath against my skin, his everything.

This wasn’t for show; there was nobody here to see us. It was just us. Just him and me and an impulsive decision.

“God, how do you do this to me?” he whispered as our lips broke away from each other momentarily. His breath tickled my ear.

How was I doing this to begin with? I asked myself, but then his mouth was back on mine and his hands were slipping lower, behind my thigh, pulling me even closer. I was sure I was going to explode. Sure that, somehow, something in my physiological makeup had shifted and turned me into a completely different person.

I’m making out with William Bishop. In my closet.

This was not part of the plan. No, this was a physical reaction to close proximity and our giddy high after the roller coaster that was this morning. And the attraction, which I couldn’t deny I felt for him anymore.

“Will,” I whispered just as his lips started tracking down my jaw and across my neck in a way which made goose bumps rise on the most sensitive pieces of my skin. It felt electrifying, arising a whole new surge of feelings. “William.”

He stopped. My chest was rising and falling against his at a quickened pace.

“Just Will,” he murmured with a glint in his eyes.

“What are we doing?” I squeaked, having to consciously stop my hands wandering from around his neck to down his chest. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he challenged, somehow moving even closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you lose control before, Chlo. Just let go.”

He was right. And that was why I needed to regain it. I deflected his kiss, even if it made my heart lurch in yearning. “We need to get out of here.”

“Didn’t realize how fast you wanted to take this,” he joked, his lips brushing against my ear.

“I mean out of the house,” I whispered, not wanting to think any further about what this was. It was too complicated, and guilt was already starting to wind its way through my chest. “We’re still hiding in my closet.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like it,” he said, the flirtatious edge still thick in his voice. In the faint light creeping through the edge of the wooden doors, I could make out the crook of his smirk.

I heard the clamoring of my mom in the kitchen, and then the blaring of a radio as she switched on the speakers in the downstairs hallway.

“But,” William said with a slow sigh. “You should probably get to school.”

Shit, I thought, suddenly reminded that I was currently skipping my test, and now my mom was home I’d definitely be in trouble.

I swallowed. “I’ll pretend to be sick, if I go down there now looking ill . . .”

William’s fingertips ran down my arms, leaving a wake of electrifying currents bursting beneath my skin, distracting me.

“You can sneak out,” I said a little forcefully as I tried to get a grip. As much as I wanted to grab him again, it was only a matter of time before my mom came up here, and the thought of her finding us like this was terrifying.

“Classy,” he said. He gave a rueful smile and managed to put a few inches between us in the confined space. “We probably shouldn’t rush into anything, anyway—not that I don’t want to—it’s just, this has all been . . . a little intense.”

“Intense is an understatement,” I muttered.

“At least neither of us got arrested,” he said cheerfully, but something in his tone sounded distant. “Call me soon, okay? When you get to the footage. Or if you . . . if you don’t want to watch it alone.”

I nodded briskly. I wanted to know what this meant for us, which felt silly. Was that even something I could ask? Suddenly nothing was adding up anymore—the deal, the revenge, the blackmail.

It wasn’t supposed to be real, but