Soft lips pressed to mine.
Heat in the pit of my stomach, I clung to him, pulling him closer, urging him to grind his hips down between my thighs. “We should . . . slow down,” he whispered against my mouth, smiling. I could feel that he was smiling. I slipped my hand down along his abdomen, dipping it into his pants, feeling him tense. “That’s . . . not fair.”
“Just a little bit,” I whispered, hand raking up through his hair, eyes fluttering open. Green eyes, chestnut hair—I recognized him as he bit his lip, gazing down at me as I touched him.
“We can’t. You know my parents are downstairs,” he whispered, panting.
“So?” I pressed, pushing his shorts down his hips. “We can be quiet.”
“Can you?” he chuckled, quirking an amused brow.
Tugging his hair, I pul
