Even if it’s only because the guy is drunk and I’m…here.

Parting my lips, I let his tongue sweep inside.

Like the flip of a switch, his kiss goes from light and teasing to intense and all-consuming.

It’s a struggle to breathe as he greedily explores every inch of my mouth, like he’ll never get enough.

My heart pounds—with nerves and pleasure—as his hands start roaming.

His fingers toy with the first button of my sweater. “You okay?”

No. I’m petrified.

The furthest I’ve ever gone was whatever the base is before you hit a home run, I think—and it was with Tommy DaSilva.

He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. An asshole hiding behind a contrived, good boy exterior.

And the Covingtons’ biggest enemy.

But I didn’t know any of that when we met online…on a Christian dating forum.

It wasn’t until we started talking privately in a chat that he disclosed he was from Royal Manor too. However, he didn’t attend RHA like me. Up until he graduated last year he went to the public school across town.

Tommy suggested we meet up…but I declined.

A month went by, and like clockwork, he kept asking to hang out.

Finally, I came clean and told him I didn’t want to because I was afraid he wouldn’t like the way I looked. He didn’t strike me as vain, but I knew from his picture he was good looking and was on the football team.

Tommy assured me all would be fine, and he didn’t judge people on their appearance.

Eventually I caved, and we met up at some drive-in movie theater a few towns over.

We clicked instantly, the conversation and laughter flowed…everything was perfect.

Eventually, one thing led to another and we ended up going further than I anticipated.

I didn’t regret giving him a hand job, though…not until he said it was getting late and he had to head home.

I thought for sure he’d ignore me, based on how abruptly he left after he got off, but to my surprise, he texted me that night and said a bunch of stuff that made me blush and feel wanted.

We agreed to hang out again that weekend.

But he blew me off.

Well, until after he left the party he was at with his football buddies.

I should have known right then things weren’t serious between us, and he was only looking for a booty call—but given I was young and inexperienced, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

And after some convincing on his part…another hand job.

Again, he left just as quickly as he came.

Only this time when he texted me later, he wasn’t full of compliments and dirty talk.

He told me I was a sweet girl, but he didn’t see a future with me because he wasn’t attracted to my body type. He tried to look past it, but he realized after our second hookup we were better off as friends.

To his credit, we did talk for a few weeks after and he kept the conversation respectful and friendly.

Even though I couldn’t fault him for not being attracted to me, and I gave him credit for being honest about it, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bruise my ego.

I might not be a ten, but I’m still a human with feelings.

Feelings that are currently going haywire thanks to Cole Covington looking at me like I’m something he wants to eat while undoing the first few buttons of my sweater.

I’m so scared he’s going to be disgusted with what he sees—he’ll make up excuses and leave.

Placing my hand on top of his, I stop him before he reaches the last button.

To my astonishment, Cole doesn’t protest, he goes back to kissing me.

“I want you,” he murmurs between kisses, or at least I think he does.

His slurring is becoming worse and his breathing is growing shallow.

I’m about to ask if he’s okay, but his lips travel down…until he’s sucking and biting a tender spot on my neck that has tingles racing up my spine.

Shit.

I have to stop this. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Girl, please—my mind taunts. Cole knows exactly what he’s doing.

The clever asshole’s turning me to putty with every stroke of his tongue.

A garbled hiss leaves me when his mouth dips lower, grazing my cleavage.

“Jesus,” he groans. “I knew they were big, but these are…”

Ginormous, kinda saggy, non-symmetrical.

“Fucking perfect.” He blows a hot gust of air over the soft, white material covering my breast and kneads the other one with his big hand. “I need them in my mouth.”

Good God. Eve had it easy with that dang apple.

If the Devil really wanted to tempt her, he should have made her spend two minutes alone in a room with Cole Covington while he touched her body and whispered dirty things.

My cheeks heat as I glance down and he buries his face in my boobs, groaning my name.

I silently pray for the strength to stop this before it goes too far.

“We can’t have sex,” I croak, coming to my senses.

“Relax.” I gasp when he nips my nipple through my bra. “I just want to suck these for a little while.” The hand massaging my other breast slips down, and he plucks the waistband of my leggings. “And find out what this untouched pussy of yours tastes like.”

Oh. Hell.

I scan my brain, but fail to come up with a valid reason why I should stop that train from leaving the station.

My virginity is for my future husband, but it doesn’t mean I can’t experience other things.

Especially things that make me feel so good.

Like the way Cole’s squeezing my boobs while his mouth eagerly goes back and forth between them, as if he can’t decide which one he likes more, so he’s determined to have both at once.

A tremor runs through me when he tugs the cups of my bra down, exposing me.

“Even better.”

My lungs seize and the trembling gets worse the second his mouth lands on my skin. I’m so nervous, I feel like I can’t breathe.

“So soft,” he slurs into my flesh.

His sluggish voice sounds a million miles away.

I try to respond, but the pressure in my chest gets worse.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was having a...

Shit on a stick.

I haven’t had an asthma attack in over six months and it happens now.

Wheezing, I stretch my arm over my head and grab my purse off the pillow. It’s where I keep the inhaler my mom insists I have with me at all times. Just in case.

Bringing it to my lips, I quickly suck in one puff and then another. Relief flows through me as the pressure dissipates and I fill my lungs with air.

Cole’s been surprisingly silent during the whole ordeal, but I can’t blame him. It’s safe to say I’ve officially ruined the mood.

I draw in another deep breath before speaking. “Sorry about—”

The sound of him snoring softly has me swallowing that sentence.

I look down, and sure enough, his eyes are closed, and his cheek is nuzzling my left boob—like my tits are his personal freaking pillows.

He looks so content, it would almost be adorable if it wasn’t for what we were doing moments prior.

I can’t believe he fell asleep while I was having an asthma attack and he was…

I grind my teeth. I’m not sure if I should feel offended or embarrassed…or both.