Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen
Malachi's POV
I pressed Alicia against the dusty wall of the old room, my lips crashing into hers. The air smelled like mothballs and forgotten books, but all I cared about was her. Her mouth was soft, warm, tasting like the cherry lip balm she always wore. My hands roamed up her sides, feeling the curve of her waist under her thin shirt. We had to be quiet. The house was full of people downstairs, laughing and talking like nothing was happening up here.
She moaned softly into my kiss, and I pulled back just enough to whisper, "Shh, baby. They'll hear us."
Her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the cracked window. "Then make me quiet," she teased, her voice barely above a breath.
