“Ah, Tulip, I always want to talk to you…” He trails off. “Truth.”

“Are you SA?”

He pops an eyebrow. “SA?”

I dart my eyes at him. “Don’t play innocent. You wrote me that letter and you’ve been texting me these poems, and if it isn’t you then I’m in deep shit cause I think SA is nice and I may really want to kiss him—”

“Yes.”

Warmth washes over me.

“You’re smiling,” he murmurs.

“Mmmm, I guessed it, so many clues there…how you showed up to help with my car, the mention of your brother…” I let my words drift off, thinking back to that letter. “Whose cell number do you use?”

“One of Dane’s burner phones I took a while back.” He grimaces. “I really tried hard to not be stalkerish.”

“Did you have anything to do with Tyler getting his scholarship?”

His lips quirk. “That was all you, Tulip. Vicious girl. I bet you made Trask wet his pants when you waltzed in there and laid down the law.”

I blush and scoot closer to him until our legs are touching. “Truth or dare?”

His chest rises and he rakes a hand through his hair. “Shit. Truth?”

“Why did you come tonight?”

He lets out a frustrated growl, all male. Hot eyes drift over me. “I want you so bad I can’t think straight.”

Oh, sweet Jesus. There it is. Somebody give the man a gold star.

“Because you’re slumming?”

“No!”

“Because you plan to use me for some evil plan?”

“No!”

“Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No!”

“Because you just can’t help it?”

“Yes!”

His hand tilts my face to his and I drink him in, the scar that slices down his cheek, those eyes that burn—for me.

I play with the V-neck of his jersey, wondering what he looks like with his shirt off.

“What makes me so special?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Does that even need a response? Don’t you see how incredible you are? How fucking hot and sweet and strong? And what happened to you at the party—figuring that out doesn’t stop, you feel me? It’s not over for me. I will find him, and when I do, I’m going to make him wish he’d never been born—”

“Shhh.” I refuse to let what happened that night ruin this moment. “One more time. Truth or dare?”

His eyes lower to half-mast. “I believe you are out of turns.”

“Pretend I’m not,” I say softly. “And you best say dare.”

“You’re quite the master player. Dare.”

My heart flutters and my hands are clammy. I know what I want to ask for…

“Take your shirt off. And the pants while you’re at it, right down to your underwear.”

He gulps air. “Ava, wait a minute now…”

There he goes, holding back and wanting to protect me, but doesn’t he see how I feel? He gets a weird look on his face. “Were you like this with Chance?”

“And by like this, what do you mean?” My hand reaches out and brushes the hair from his face, and he grabs it, pressing a hot kiss to my palm.

I like that feral gleam in his eye. Jealousy.

“Badass. Mouthy. Sexy as fuck.” His hands cup my cheeks and he leans in, hovering over my lips. He changes direction, his nose running up my neck. He nips me on my throat then sucks hard, and I gasp.

“Chance doesn’t know this side of me,” I say breathlessly. “Only you.”

He tugs on my hair. “Thank God. He never could have handled you, Tulip.”

“You haven’t completed your dare.”

Our eyes cling for a long moment, and then he murmurs. “Technically, it was my turn. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I whisper.

“You take my clothes off.” He swallows thickly and stands up from the bed, his chest rising rapidly.

Standing up, I lift his shirt, grazing my hand over his upper chest then dropping the jersey to the floor. He toes his shoes and socks off, kicking them aside while I work on his slick pants, pushing them down until he’s in his tight black underwear.

My heart clutches. He’s beautiful, all hard muscles and broad shoulders and tanned skin, his legs thick and powerful.

He bites his lip. “Tulip, please…please…I’m dying to…”

“What?”

His lashes flutter. “Fucking devour you like I’ve imagined a million times.”

“Please do.”

He pounces then, like the tiger he is, his arms closing around me and pulling me in for a hard kiss, holding nothing back, his tongue dueling with mine, sucking and nipping. He’s ferocious with his mouth, his hands clutching my shoulders so tight, as if he’s hanging on to me.

“Get…this off,” I mumble, and my camisole is pulled up, by him and me together. His fingers unsnap my bra until my skin is bare, and he groans as my flesh presses against his.

“Tulip…so sweet,” he whispers, his mouth closing around a nipple, and I clutch his head as blazing flame burns over my body, my legs scissoring with need. His teeth graze over one peak then the other, and I shiver. It’s never been like this, never this intense, never this hot feeling on my body, the way I burn.

He pushes at my tights, grunting when he sees the booty shorts underneath, his fingers stalling out. “Are you sure, Tulip? Are you? Because I want you, but I don’t want to scare you or make you feel like you have to be physical with me. We can cuddle. We can crawl up in your bed and watch those goofy Star Wars movies while I play with your hair.”

“I am,” I rush out, helping him slip the shorts off. I want something good. I want to not worry about a dark night in the woods, I want to replace it with beautiful things. With him.

And I know he’s a Shark and I’m not, but he’s kind, and I trust him, I do. He’s proven himself to me in so many ways.

He looks at me, his irises dark with desire as they rove over my body. “So beautiful.”

He sweeps me up in his arms, making me laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he muses.

“You’re just so…strong. I like it.”

“Good.” He lies down next to me on the bed, his lips on mine. We take up the whole mattress, but I don’t even notice. I melt into him, basking in this need and want he’s kept on a leash.

My back arches up when he kisses down my body, hands tracing over my face, my breasts, his mouth moving from one nipple to another, teasing me and sucking. He dips his tongue in my belly button, tasting my hip bones with a soft bite.

My core tightens, and my eyes roll back in my head at the friction, at the feel of his powerful body against my soft one.

“Tulip, I want to…” He presses little kisses to my stomach, his tongue flicking at my waistline as he toys with my panties.

Something makes him stop and I rise up. He’s staring at my underwear, and all at once I’m embarrassed. They aren’t special: white cotton, standard issue from the group home with my initials on the inside. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…nervous. May I?”