Page 147 of Kill Switch (Devil's Night 3)

“Make you dirty.”

I slowed, touching his mouth with mine and kissing him softly.

Why would he think that?

“You won’t.” I shook my head, touching his face. “We won’t go all the way. We’ll just play.”

He breathed out a laugh.

I kissed him, and he dug his fingers in again, making my body explode and every inch of skin come alive. God, I loved it when he did that.

“Hey, man, what are we doing?” someone shouted outside. “You want us to wait or what?”

I startled, taking a moment to register he had friends with him. I threaded my fingers into his hair, going for his mouth again.

; Don’t leave.

“Dude!” the guy barked again. “Girls your own age, right out here! What the fuck?”

A breathy laugh rumbled from his chest. “I don’t think I can wait for her to be legal, man,” he whispered to his friend but only loud enough for me to hear.

I nibbled his mouth, playing. “Sixteen is the legal age of consent in thirty-three states,” I teased. “Just not ours. It’s a technicality.”

“Researched it, have you?”

I started to grin, but the guy outside grew impatient. “Man, come on!”

But the boy in my arms shot out his fist, slamming it into the window to shut his friend up, and I heard the glass crack and splinter under his fist.

“Ah, Jesus,” the guy whined, and I heard more laughter from others. “Let’s give them some room, guys.”

Their voices drifted off, and he slowed down, touching me, devouring my neck, and getting to know my body. His hands drifted up my skirt, teasing the line but never crossing it, and I slid my hands under his sweatshirt and T-shirt, feeling his hot skin, taut body, and narrow waist.

I brushed across raised pieces of skin under his arms, and paused, noticing they reminded me of what I’d felt under his hair two years ago. I rubbed over them with my thumb several times.

“Why were you upset earlier?” he asked. “When you left work?”

That’s right. He saw me leave the theater. I looked upset?

I guess I kind of whipped the door closed rather vehemently.

“Did someone else do something to you?” He pulled back to look at me as he buttoned my top button and retied my bow tie.

Normally, I hated when people handled me like a kid and assumed they should do things for me, but I got the impression it was more for him. About putting me ‘right’ again.

“Just a bad night all around,” I told him.

“What happened?”

“Nothing important.”

He finished and settled his hands on my waist, waiting.

I laughed quietly, giving in. “I think I quit my job tonight,” I told him. “I’ve been working the ticket booth at Bridge Bay Theater. They’d asked me not to dance on the premises anymore, and I…” I paused, searching for a way to explain so I didn’t sound pathetic, “did whatever I could to stay involved there, maybe change their minds. But she won’t budge.”

I drew in a deep breath and exhaled, reiterating my boss’s words. “‘It’s unsafe, and I could hurt myself,’ I told him, getting angry all over again and starting to tear up. “My boss said something like “God has a path, and I need to go where life leads me.”