“You did?” Her eyebrows pull together in confusion.
I nod. “You’re kind of a badass.”
Her smug expression quickly gives way to surprise as I lift her up and pin her against the locker. Her legs wrap around my waist as her arms circle my neck.
“I was hard the whole time,” I say, pushing my hips into her to illustrate my point.
Shayne lets out a tiny moan, her eyes falling to my mouth. She wants to kiss me. And I should walk the fuck away right now, to end this before shit gets messier than it already has. Instead, I’m leaning in closer, bracing one hand on the locker above her head. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her fingers slide up into my hair, pulling me closer. Her full lips ghost across mine, and then I feel her tongue flick against my piercings at the corner of my lips. I groan, pushing into her heat, wanting to pull her panties to the side and fuck her right here and now.
Shayne’s mouth moves against mine, her tongue slipping inside tentatively at first, but then her arms tighten around my neck, her thighs squeezing me as she deepens the kiss. I snap into action, kissing her hard but slow as she grinds her pussy against the bulge in my pants.
Hooking my hands underneath her thighs, I walk her over to straddle the bench between the rows of lockers, bringing her on top of me. She doesn’t miss a beat, bringing her palms to either side of my face as her mouth moves against me, her hips shifting forward. Her movements are confident and it’s hot as fuck to see her like this, taking what she needs from me, but if she doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to blow my fucking load like a middle schooler getting his first hand job.
Suddenly, the sound of the door opening then slamming shut echoes through the locker room, causing us both to freeze, Shayne’s eyes widen with panic. When we don’t hear anything else for a few seconds, I lift her off me, then stand from the bench.
“What if someone saw us?” she whispers.
This right here is why I should stay away from her. No matter how much I want to hate her, no matter how much I want to blame her, my need for her is stronger. Always.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s fine?” she repeats, incredulous, reaching into her locker to pull a shirt over her head. “It’s fine that someone might’ve just seen me naked on top of my ex-stepbrother?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She scoffs, pulling a pair of sweatpants and a jacket from the bag inside her locker.
“Did you take my jacket?” I ask, remembering that it went missing the morning she snuck out of my bed.
She flings her locker door shut, turning to meet my eyes. “I didn’t have much of a choice,” she says defensively.
“I need it back.”
“Fine.”
Shayne
“Is everything okay?” Ms. Thomas asks, eyeing my latest entries as if she’s reading the manifesto of a man who planned to blow up an entire city instead of the angsty teenage ramblings that they are.
“Fine,” I say with false cheeriness. I’ve had a lot to say lately. So sue me. Her eyes linger a little too long on an X-rated page, so I impatiently stick out my palm, clearing my throat.
“Right,” she says, blinking rapidly. So much for not reading my personal thoughts. Gently, she drops the composition book into my hand, and I snatch it back, feeling exposed. “Let’s switch gears,” she suggests.
“Please.”
“College.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Shayne,” she chides, tilting her head. “You have options.”
“I know,” I assure her before she launches into her spiel about scholarships and financial aid that I know I won’t even be eligible for. Everyone here, guidance counselor included, knows I’m not like the rest of the kids at Sawyer Point High. My mom might’ve come from money, but she doesn’t get a dime from her parents. “I’m actually going to tour campuses with my team next week.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, surprised. “Perfect. Anything else you want to talk about?”
“Nope.”
“Then I’ll see you in two weeks.”