Page 3 of Finding Grey

He shook his head in quick, jerky movements. “No.”

That made two of us. Girls had been screaming my name since before I made it to the far side of puberty. There’d been no time to notice boys with more than a casual interest, until I walked off that stage and got sucker-punched by grey eyes and black denim. Of course, these days I was always horny when I came off stage. Maybe that’s why this boy had me ready to crawl out of my own skin. Whatever the reason, I had too much energy and I knew exactly where I wanted to sink it. When he made no move to escape, I figured he’d let me. “Do you want to try it?”

He panted lightly and, when he straightened, I could feel the faint puffs of air against my throat. “Only if the boy is you.”

There was no end to the way his answer pleased me. I lifted my hands to either side of his head and smiled when I noticed them trembling. My fingers slid into his shaggy brown hair and I dragged my thumbs along the underside of his jawline. Tilting his head back, I leaned in and touched my lips to his. They were soft and smooth as they moved against mine. Not so different from kissing a girl.

Eager to explore, I angled my head, so I could increase the pressure of the kiss. The tip of my tongue slipped between his lips to skim his own before retreating. With a whimper, he gave chase. My mouth opened, and he stumbled inside in a burst of peppermint. Our teeth scraped together, and his tongue tunnelled so far into my mouth it threatened to choke me. I didn’t care. His enthusiasm was infectious, easily rivalling any of the more skilful kisses I’d shared with fangirls and fanatics alike.

Sliding my hands around his waist, I pulled his slender body close. I liked the firmness of his chest against mine, so different from the soft, round breasts I was used to. And lower down, his hard-on pressed against me beneath the tight confines of his jeans. I twisted my hips back and forth, rubbing against him, and he moaned into my mouth. Damn, I liked that sound.

Then he put his hands on me, raking them along my sides. I flinched, hissing in a breath.

He pulled away instantly, hands lifting in the air. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, though he clearly had no idea what he’d done wrong.

“It’s all right.” Pulling up my shirt, I inspected the multitude of blues and purples that bloomed low on my ribcage. They were taking longer to fade than usual.

“What happened to you?” he asked as he ran his fingertips around the yellowing edges of the bruise.

“It’s nothing.” Gripping on to his hand, I lowered my shirt. “Don’t worry about it.” I didn’t want to talk about the bruise, or how I’d gotten it, or how many others there were. Right now, I had better uses for his mouth.

My hands slipped down around the back of his thighs, so I could lift him onto the dressing table before nudging my way between his knees. Once I had his body nestled against mine, I leaned in to nuzzle the corner of his mouth. “Was this your first kiss?”

His head lowered to my shoulder with a cringe. “Yes,” he said, his voice a low groan. Taking a deep breath, he rose to look me in the face. “Was I that bad?”

“You were perfect.” I wrapped my arms around him, smiling when his hands crept up around my neck. “I like the way you taste.” My lips brushed against his once, then again. We clung to each other as our kisses deepened, each one more thorough than the last.

It was a long time before our mouths parted. “Dante?” he whispered, still breathing my air. I made a questioning sound, hoping he wouldn’t tell me we had to stop. I didn’t ever want to stop kissing him. “Happy birthday to you,” he rasped in a sing-song voice.

We both gave a quiet laugh, and then I dragged my hands down the outside of his thighs. When I reached his knees I lifted, urging him to wrap his legs around my waist. “Best. Present. Ever.” I stroked my tongue along his bottom lip before diving back inside for another taste.

Neither of us heard the key turn in the lock. We didn’t hear the door open. But there was no missing the sound of my father’s growl as it filled the room. “What the fuck is going on in here?”