Page 32 of The Underachiever’s Guide to Love and Saving the World

Bryce seemed to debate for a long, long moment.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, fingers tightening around my hip as he pulled me back into him, tucking me against his chest. His heart thudded between my shoulder blades, his breath tickling my neck. His arm around my waist tightened, and he sighed against my hair.

I twined my feet with his, and he grumbled a protest at my chilled toes, but let me stuff them between his calves anyway.

“Bad night,” I wished him with a fake yawn, nestling myself against him comfortably.

Bryce caught on immediately, murmuring back a soft “Sleep loose.”

“Sour dreams.”

“Shithead.” The word sounded like an endearment, our usual bickering turning into something new and sweet.

He pulled me tighter, fitting our hips together. I pretended to stretch my legs, moving against him, slow and languid.

Bryce’s breath caught. “God, I hate you.” His lips moved against my neck.

“I know you worship me, but ‘Courtney’ is perfectly fine.” I let the nonsense leave my mouth, unsure if it made sense because all I could focus on was the feel of his body against mine.

He caught my waist, stilling me. “I don’t worship the devil.” His teeth grazed my ear, and desire pooled low in my belly. “But you sounded pretty worshipful yourself when you moaned my name last night.”

“I’m incapable of feeling pleasure when you’re around.” Every one of my nerves buzzed and tingled in—you guessed it—pleasure.

“I feel the same.” Slowly, he shifted his hips, pressing against me so I could feel him, hard and unmistakable.

And, oh my god. He really did feel the same as me, though not in the way we both claimed. That knowledge loosened my restraint. My pulse drummed white-hot between my thighs.

“You feel the same?” I managed.

“You know I do.” His words were rough and low in my ear. I never would have suspected the anxious accountant next door had a feral sex voice that could melt me. “Every minute spent with you feels like an hour, but not in a good way.”

It was as though we both believed that, so long as we continued to verbally insist that we despised each other, anything we did to the contrary wouldn’t count.

“For perspective,” Bryce went on, “given the choice between sex with you and sitting through a distant relative’s graduation ceremony, I’d take the graduation.”

I clenched my jaw so I wouldn’t turn into a whimpering, begging mess. “If that random french fry everyone has lodged under their car seat were a person, it would be you.”

“A delightful and unexpected snack?”

All I wore was the shift I’d been wearing under my dress, and it slipped up, skimming my upper thighs. Bryce’s hand trailed to my hip, and he sucked in a breath when he discovered me naked underneath.

“Unwanted, forgotten, soggy, gross, flaccid,” I spat through my teeth.

“Uh-huh,” Bryce murmured, slow and soothing. He slipped his hand to my inner thigh, and I arched against him.

“Given the choice between sex with you and helping a friend move, I’d—”

His fingers tightened. “Don’t. That’s too far.”

“I’d help the friend move,” I gasped.

“You’re awful.” His teeth found the back of my neck, and he nipped lightly, sending my every hair on end.

“Maybe you had a point this morning.” The words tumbled from my mouth in a breathy rush. “I mean, I tried being kind to others for twelve whole hours, and I’m still not beloved by all, so—”

Bryce moved so quickly I barely had time to register it, flipping me onto my back and rolling on top of me. Firelight glinted off his bare chest. His eyes were dark, glazed with lust. “For the sake of the world, yeah?”

“Yeah, yes,” I said. “To awaken our magic. To save the world. Just a physical thing, no strings attached.”

“Yes. Good.”

“Good.” Tugging him closer, I ground against him.

“Good,” he choked out, breath hot against my jaw. His nose skimmed over my cheek. He dipped his head, lips angled for my mouth.

My hand shot between our faces. I stared at his beautiful, soft, tantalizing lips in horror. “No kissing.”

“No kissing?” Bryce repeated against my hand. He pulled back. “What am I supposed to do with my mouth?”

“A moment of silence for your past lovers.”

He gave me a withering look. “You know what I mean. It’s weird not to.”

“This is no strings attached. Kissing is stringy.”

“You’re doing something wrong if kissing is stringy . On second thought, maybe I’ll pass.”

I wavered, then compromised. Because I was generous. Not because I wanted his lips on me. Now. “You can kiss me, just not on the mouth.”

Bryce shook his head. “Fine. Okay.”

He dipped his head, hair tickling my ear as he pressed his warm mouth to my neck. I sighed and immediately wondered why I’d said no kissing. Skimming my fingers over his back, I nipped lightly at his shoulder, tongue grazing his skin. He shivered.

“Don’t fake a damn thing,” he said roughly, lips against my ear.

“Stop being annoying,” I whispered. “Touch me.”

Eyes darkening, he slipped a hand between my legs, making a helpless sound low in his throat when he felt how badly I wanted him. Reaching down, I adjusted his hand, and he groaned against my shoulder, somewhere between agony and want. I rocked into his touch, needing more, more, more.

“Wait,” I gasped. “Before we get further. Condoms?”

His eyes tightened.

I grimaced.

Bryce let out a long sigh. “Yeah, right, I’ll just ask Amy for some condoms .” Pulling away, he closed his eyes. “Where exactly do you think I have condoms?”

“I don’t know, in your wallet? Aren’t you an accountant? Accountants are supposed to account for things.”

His eyes opened, lust-hazed irises flashing. “What do you think I am, some sort of sexual vending machine, ready to dispense protected portable sex at any time?”

“You’re not nearly as menacing.”

“You think you’re funny, but you’re not.”

“Condoms aren’t an unusual thing to keep with you, Bryce.”

“Shopping cart handles give me anxiety. You think I’m out there braving the casual sex scene?”

“Shit.”

“Shit,” he agreed, pushing off me and flopping onto the mattress.

I scrubbed my hands over my face. There had to be a solution. If only I could stop thinking about Bryce’s fingers between my legs long enough to focus.

“Listen,” he said, sitting up, his hair a ruffled disaster, “my grandparents tried to raise me to be a good Catholic. I know every way there is to have sex without having sex. This is fine. We’ll adapt. Overcome.”

“Wait, I’ve got it.” I shot up. “We have to go to the courtyard where we first appeared. I had a bunch of groceries, and some made their way through the portal with me. It was mostly food, but I also had condoms.”

While obviously I knew there was plenty we could do together that wouldn’t require condoms, if I was only going to get Bryce for a night, I wanted to do everything with him.