“When we kissed...” My voice is deeper than normal. “When my hands wandered here.” I draw my hand up and it gently grazes the underside of her breast. She edges closer to me as if she enjoys the touch.

Her tongue darts out and wets her bottom lip. “Yes?”

We’re playing a dangerous game I want to continue. “Was it your first time for that?”

She nods, then meets my gaze. My lips tilt up with the excited wildness in her eyes.

“There’s been no other touching for you, then?” I’m referring to south of her and I return my fingers to the skin of her thigh, but this time, it’s closer to her inner than outer thigh.

“No.” A mixture of curiosity, nerves and lust merge together to create that sexy hooded expression. She’d like to experience the answer to my question. If there weren’t stitches in my arm, I’d be willing to satisfy her desire for this new knowledge.

“Someday,” I tell her. “Someday, I’ll be better and we’ll be alone.”

“My heart is going to explode,” she whispers.

“Mine, too.”

We lie together. Her next to me. Me holding her. The chemistry brewing between us is an undercurrent not willing to be ignored.

“I almost turned away,” she says. “Violet was telling me things that frightened me—things about your club—and I almost told her to take me home.”

My heart stops beating and I freeze. “What changed your mind?”

Breanna’s silent and I count between her inhales and exhales. Each second that passes becomes excruciatingly longer. When I’m about to bust out of my own skin, she says, “I couldn’t stay away.”

“Why?”

“What if I said I don’t know what love is?” she asks like she’s testing out the words. “That I’ve read about it—in textbooks and psychology books and in novels, but it’s not something I can pin down the meaning of. Like, I know I love my parents and my brothers and sisters and Addison, but that’s what is expected and all I’ve known. It’s always been a part of me, and then there’s meeting you...”

She drifts off. I loved my mother. Loved my father. Loved Olivia, Oz, Chevy, Violet and this club. Then there was meeting Breanna and the emotion of being around her is nothing like that definition of love. This is heartbreaking and consuming and addictive. It’s terrifying and peaceful, crazy and serene. It’s a million things in one brief moment and it’s something I don’t understand and never want to live without.

“I’d say I don’t know what it is, either. But if I had to guess, it would be like when I’m with you.”

Breanna does what hardly any other person can do—she stares straight into my eyes without hesitation. “Yeah, it would be that for me, too.”

She loves me. That damn smile that I never knew was a part of me spreads across my face and I love the answering one she has for me. I burrow my fingers into her hair. “Kiss me.”

Worry shadows her expression. “But you’re hurt. Your arm and your side and there are cuts and brui—”

“If you don’t lean your body this way and kiss me, Breanna, I’m going to roll you underneath me and threaten to tear open my wounds so I can kiss you. Your choice.”

She purses her lips as if she’s annoyed, but she slips closer. Her hand claims my stomach, her knee brushes against mine and that tempting mouth is only a few centimeters away. “Your logic completely sucks.”

“Nothing logical about it. This is all instinct.” I grab her hips and drag her across until she’s straddling me. I fight the urge to laugh at the shock washing over her face. Eyes wide. Mouth rounded into an O. Her skirt gathers around her thighs and she’s settled exactly where I’ve pictured her being.

“You really are bad.” She adjusts to her new position and I’m about to lose my mind with the sensations that movement brings.

“Just now figuring that out?”

“Maybe.”

Doubt it. She’s smart. The girl has had my number since we met, but damn if she hasn’t fallen for me anyhow. “Are you going to make me repeat my request?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’m not sure if you know, but I have this nasty habit of forgetting things...”

I tangle our fingers, pull her to me and take her lips with mine. Our mouths open and our tongues dance. Asking and giving, possessing and relenting.

My hand is along her back, drawing up her sweater and tank, and when Breanna shifts, granting me permission, I have the material up and over her head. We’re close to skin against skin and my mind becomes a whirlwind. She’s heat, softness, curves and sighs. Hair that’s like silk, kisses that cause earthquakes and she has a sweet scent that drives me insane.

A flick of my fingers, a clasp undone and the gentle pressure of all of Breanna is too much to bear. Our bodies move, my lips are on her neck, my hands are memorizing, and Breanna whispers in my ear, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There’s no pain. Only a building heat and an impending rush. I shake my head to calm her fears and reclaim her mouth. The momentum grows and she presses closer to me as I press closer to her. It’s fast and out of control and there’s a light pain in my right arm, but I shove all that away as I grip her hips, encouraging this rhythm to pick up speed.

She’s kissing me and I’m kissing her, then she turns her head as she gasps and shifts so that we’re no longer in sync. Both of us are struggling for air and my body pulses with the need to continue. Breanna sits up, still straddling me, and looks down with wild and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry...it’s just a little...”