Here, drink this." Kelsey shoved a cup into my hand, her cheeks already tinged with color. The party, which felt more like a wild bash, was in full swing.
I peered at the drink. "What's in it?"
"Does it really matter?" Ryan chimed in, a grin plastered on his face. "You're new here. Time to let loose!"
I chuckled as I took a sip. The sweetness hit me with surprising intensity.
"Alright, maybe just a little fun," I conceded.
Kelsey pulled me into the bustling crowd. "Come on, Raine! Dance with me!"
We swayed to the rhythm, bodies too close for comfort, the bass thumping hard against the walls. Ryan suddenly whirled me around, causing me to burst into laughter.
"You've got two left feet!" I teased.
"Absolutely not," Ryan replied, deadpan. "I'm legendary."
I was still giggling when I felt it—a wave of heat enveloping me, pressing down and refusing to go away. I looked up.
He was there.
Jace.
Leaning against the wall, a drink in his hand, his gaze fixed squarely on me.
My breath hitched. Heat surged through me. Even in the dim lights, he oozed sexiness and danger.
I tried to tear my gaze away and focus on the dance floor, but I couldn't resist stealing another glance.
He was still watching me.
And then, without warning, he wasn't. He pushed himself off the wall and strode toward the stairs, not saying a word.
"I'll be right back," I quickly said, thrusting my cup into Ryan's hand.
"Raine!" Kelsey shouted, but I was already weaving my way through the throng, racing up the stairs and down the hall.
I didn't knock. I just pushed the door open.
There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees, as if he'd been waiting for me. He looked up slowly, his expression hard. "What are you doing here?"
I closed the door behind me. "I'm following you."
His jaw tightened. "Not a great idea."
"Then do something about it," I shot back.
"What was that thing at the pool yesterday?" I probed.
A smirk appeared on his face as he replied, "What thing? You mean the way you were trembling like a leaf just because I came over?"
"Or maybe how eager you are for me? I saw it the first night we met—if I'd played into your hopeless flirting, you would've let me have my way with you against my car." He wore that smug grin, so convinced of himself, and honestly, he was right. I probably would have, but there was no way I'd admit that.
"Honestly? Screw you, Jace. You think you're something special just because you're attractive, but here's a little newsflash: nobody's into that," I retorted, feeling a mix of anger and something else racing through me.
"Oh, did I touch a nerve? The good girl Raine, all high and mighty, putting on a show while really just being a stuck-up princess." His sarcasm dripped.
"Fuck you, Jace. You don't know anything about me or my life. And stop calling me a good girl when you don't know the first thing about who I am."
His chuckle broke the tension, and even that simple sound from him ignited something inside me.
An uncomfortable silence enveloped us. His gaze traveled down my legs, lingering for a moment before returning to meet my eyes.
"You're drunk," he observed.
"Not as drunk as you think." I tilted my head, challenging him, showing that I was far from the good girl he imagined. I wanted him. "You're acting all moody, but I can tell you're into me."
His laugh was low and devoid of joy. "You have no idea what you're getting into."
"Then prove me wrong," I urged, too charged to retreat.
I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, daring him with my gaze. His hands gripped my waist tightly, as if he wanted to push me away but couldn't bring himself to do it.
"Damn it, Raine…" he muttered, his jaw tight.
"Go on, tell me to stop." My breath brushed against his ear as I moved closer to him.
His palm cracked against my backside, sharp and shocking, making me gasp.
"Careful," he growled, meeting my gaze with a storm brewing in his eyes. "You're not the only one who enjoys living on the edge."
A smirk played on his lips as his other hand, still not on my waist, slid up the hem of my dress, finding my backside and delivering another playful spank. "You're a naughty girl, aren't you?" he whispered into my ear.
All I could manage was a breathy moan. The combination of my thong and the roughness of his jeans sent waves of pleasure through me.
His hand shifted from my waist to my neck. "You're a little tease, aren't you? All worked up for your stepbrother."
"Shit—" I gasped, overwhelmed and unable to think of a clever comeback. The sensations were intoxicating, and he was barely even trying.
With a dark chuckle, he moved me against him again. "Please—" I pleaded. I craved release.
Another spank. "Then go for it." With a definitive pull, he drew me down to feel all of him.
Even through his pants, I could sense his strength, moving beneath me as I lost control, grinding against his hardness, moans escaping me freely, his hands tightening around my neck while his subtle movements pushed him right where I needed him.
"This is all mine," he growled in my ear, and I came hard in his lap.
All that raced through my mind was one thought: What the hell had I just done?