Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,34

signs of making a move, good or bad, so I take one last shot straight from the bottle.

She watches my every fucking move with this longing, this hunger, that I could always feel simmering away under the surface of her skin, even when I wasn’t entirely sure it was aimed at me.

There’s no mistaking it now.

I offer her the bottle and she blinks at me, finally snapping out of the little trance she’s in to walk over and take it. She downs the last of it in one go and carefully sets the empty bottle on Avery’s custom coffee table, clearing her throat a little.

“Do you have pajamas here or do we need to go back to—“ Her voice disappears as I reach behind my head to pull my shirt off because fuck no, this isn’t a fucking sleepover and I’m not letting either of us puss out of it.

I’ve waited too long and played my cards too close to my chest to fuck it up now.

Her eyes stay fixed on mine as I unbutton my jeans and fuck me, the little moaning sound that comes out of her as I kick them away and stand there in nothing but my boxers almost has me nutting myself. There’s no fucking way that she can deny it now, she’s practically dripping all over the floor and I’ve never been so fucking relieved in my life, never been so fucking glad that every person we care about is miles away at some pretentious dance for wealthy assholes just trying to look important around each other.

I’m not leaving this room until she’s mine.

Her chest starts heaving like she’s been running a marathon, and her hands shake so bad that I start to worry she’s about to talk herself out of this before I get the chance to show her just how fucking badly I want her, just how good I’m going to make this, so I taunt some of that signature fire of hers back into her.

“Are you just going to stare, Mounty, or are you gonna do something?”

A shiver runs down her spine and she licks her bottom lip, just a little movement but enough to have my dick joining the fucking party.

It almost takes me to my knees when she finally grabs the bottom of her shirt and yanks it over her head, unbuttoning her jeans and shoving them down her legs like she has something to prove until she’s standing there in just her bra and panties, tiny little scraps of lace that barely cover anything. I swallow roughly and fight to keep my eyes on her, but it’s hard when there’s so much I want to finally look at, touch, taste, and fucking worship on display.

She’s too fucking hot.

If she’s not in uniform she’s always wearing these big, ugly sweaters that look like they’re swallowing her whole, so I hadn’t noticed how much she’s changed since we found her at the docks in the Bay.

Fuck.

I wonder if she has that outfit lying around somewhere?

I force myself to just stand there for a second, to give her every opportunity to back out or talk some more shit at me, but when her breathing just gets heavier, I finally break and just fucking lunge at her. I grab her by the backs of her thighs and lift her into my arms, pressing her into my chest like I can fucking keep her there forever if I get her close enough. She doesn’t hesitate to wrap her legs around my waist, her arms looping around my neck as I finally get my lips on hers again.

This time, I’m not going to stop.

She groans into the kiss, that fucking sound that’s going to rattle around in my head for the rest of my goddamn life, and bites my lips as I finally get my hands on that ass of hers, squeezing and pulling her in even closer to my chest. She’s fucking squirming in my arms, rubbing against me, and if I don’t get her on the bed now, I’m just going to end up fucking her against the wall.

She pulls away from me to take a breath and I mumble against her lips, “Bed?”

She doesn’t hesitate to nod and kiss me again so I get my ass moving, stretching out on her bed with my back against her pillows and only pausing for as long as it takes her to get comfortable.

Then she looks up at me, her eyes a little unfocused