“Right?”
He was almost trembling, and he shook his head. “No. Hell no.” His fingers sank into me, flexing. “Keep fucking going.”
So I did, but this time, I scooted back and bent to take him in my mouth. His entire body paused, his hands in my hair. I could’ve kept going, but I didn’t want to torture him. At least not yet. I’d wait until after the dance, after Kirk’s after-prom party when we were alone again. Then I’d torture him all night long.
He didn’t wait long. Once my mouth settled over him and I began moving up and down, his hands fisted until he was ripping me away. He flipped me over, and grabbing my leg, he raised it over his upper arm and then slid inside, sheathing himself deep.
I sucked in a breath, letting the air out through my teeth at the sensations. Goddamn. That felt so good.
“Now you were saying?” He smirked at me, pushing deeper in before sliding out, only to go back in.
I sighed, letting the waves of torment roll in, and a half hour later, after he put on a condom, he had me whimpering and biting my lip to keep from screaming. Then my entire body went slack.
Afterward, he curled against my body and kissed my neck. “There’s no one else I want to dance with,” he whispered, his hand palming my breast. “It’s only you.” He kissed me again, his thumb grazing my nipple. “Only you, Mac.”
I already knew this. I’d known this all year, but it felt good to hear because I felt the same. There’d be no one else.
Closing my eyes, I murmured, “Good, because I love you.”
His arms tightened around me. “I love you too.”
Thirteen pieces just fit back together, all at the same time.
Chapter Forty-One
“Your hair is so much darker now,” Cora said, putting her eyeliner down on the counter.
We were getting ready at my house. Ryan had left, going to dress at his place, and he’d texted not long afterward to say the guys were already drinking there.
“Yeah.” I pushed up some of the loose tendrils, patting them back into place. It wasn’t that much darker, but I had put more brunette coloring in it. There were still some blonde, but I didn’t want to look exactly like Willow tonight. I wanted to be me, and as I gazed in the mirror—I was me. I was Willow, but I was me too.
“And Ryan cut his hair short. I can’t believe he did that. He’s always had it where he could make it all messy.”
I didn’t smile; I heard the envy in her voice.
Cora was happy with Kirk, but she’d been harping on him to cut his hair too. Once she saw Ryan’s new crew cut and how ridiculously hot it made him look, she started in. She hadn’t been the only one. Peach had jumped on the bandwagon, asking Tom to cut his hair. Both guys refused, letting their hair grow even longer. Kirk’s had grown to just past his ears, and Tom was closely resembling a shaggy dog these days.
Ryan had cut his for the summer. He was starting a new basketball training camp, and he didn’t want to deal with too much hair and heat. I’d liked his messiness too. It always looked adorable on him, but I couldn’t deny the spark I felt when he got back from the haircut place. It made him seem so much more grown-up, more of a man.
“Erin said Stephanie Witts is hoping for prom queen.” Cora lifted her hand, inspecting her nails.
She missed the slight wince I couldn’t contain.
It wasn’t the prom queen thing. I didn’t want it, but it’d become a sore spot over the last month. Erin, Cora, Peach, and all of their friends had been campaigning for me to win. I told them not to, but I knew they kept doing it. So, I started telling people to vote for Cora. She was the one who really wanted it, and after her transformation this year—from being one of the shiest girls in our grade to one of the most well-liked girls—she deserved it.
Not me. That was for sure.
I eyed her lilac-colored dress, the matching dusting of purple eye shadow, and the tiniest bit of glitter on her neck. “Have a speech ready,” I told her.
Her eyes opened wide, meeting mine in the mirror. She quickly looked away, focusing on the bathroom counter. “You know that won’t happen.” But I could see her cheeks flushing.
“Right,” I replied.
The