20. Hannah

TWENTY

My mouth opens. My lips part, letting him in.

I don't want to.

I don't want to kiss Maddox.

But I have to.

I have to taste him.

I need to take what he's giving me.

His tongue invades my mouth.

There's nothing slow.

Nothing soft. Nothing sweet.

It's all heat.

Maddox is all fire.

"Still taste like fucking oranges," he murmurs before sliding his tongue against mine.

An answering noise crawls up my throat.

I feel his lips pull into a smile against my mouth, can feel his smugness over getting a sound out of me.

So I close my teeth around the tip of his tongue.

He releases my wrist, but before I can so much as move, he grips the back of my neck and pulls me in tighter, using his lips to force my mouth open wider.

And god damn, it feels so good.

My hands reach for him, finding his chest.

My fingers grip his shirt, twisting it, pulling him closer.

My massive Maddox.

Maddox.

My breath hitches.

He's not mine.

I release my hold on his shirt and slide my hands a few inches higher.

He groans into my mouth, and I let him kiss me for another second. One more heartbeat.

Then I pull his chest hair. Hard.

As I'd hoped, Maddox jerks back, releasing me.

And before he can recover, I unbuckle and scramble out of the car, slamming the door behind me.