“Lipsticks!” Krisjen chides, coming over.

I pull away, cleaning her mouth as she cleans mine, and I’m dizzy. She takes the lipstick from Krisjen and tries to reapply mine, but I can’t stand it. I take her face in my hands, needing another dose.

“I’m never letting you go,” I whisper in her ear.

But she meets my eyes, something wicked in hers. “I kind of hope you try.”

What?

“You spent years torturing me,” she points out, pushing me into the wall and jerking her body into mine. “I might like returning the favor if you ever try to keep this from me again.”

I groan as she grips my body and her warmth seeps through my clothes.

Please, God, take me to a car now. Jesus.

She hands everything back to Krisjen and looks at me. “So, you ready for this?”

To be with her wherever and whenever I want? “Hell yes.”

She nods. “Then let’s make a scene.”

My father steps up behind us and Krisjen takes Liv’s hand, pulling her away to get in position, and I watch her go, the dress on her unlike anything here tonight. She’s the most beautiful.

“Ready?” My dad takes my hand, hooking it over his arm.

“For anything.”

The music starts playing, the line forms behind the stage, and I’m tempted to push myself and my father back a few spaces, so we’re not front and center and dominating attention like my outfit no doubt will, but what’s worth doing once is worth doing big. I’m not hiding another second.

“Please welcome the Daughters of St. Carmen in the Ninety-Ninth Annual Debutante Ball!” Mrs. Wentworth announces on the stage.

Three-two-one…

We walk, stepping out from behind the curtain together and keeping in time, slow and steady, as I come into view and the applause suddenly falters. My skin warms as everyone watches us, my dad and I both in suits, me in a top hat, and then the clapping turns to whispers, because I’m the only one in nearly a hundred years who’s broken protocol. I snort, nearly failing at holding in my laughter, and I look up to Dad, seeing him look down at me with a wink. What are they going to do? This isn’t even the fun part.

We descend the stage and stop in the middle of the dance floor, bowing to the crowd. A full curtsy is customary next, and I oblige, dropping to the floor and lowering my head.

The orchestra plays, and I rise, hoping Krisjen took care of the next part.

Finally, I hear it. “Uh…” Mrs. Wentworth clears her throat, composing herself. “Miss…um, Miss Clay Collins, escorted by…” I hear a heavy exhale. “Escorted by Olivia Jaeger.”

A few claps, but I don’t expect more and don’t wait for it as I watch Liv walk around the dance floor and stop at my side, slipping her fingers between mine.

I gaze at her, the way the string of little flowers drape off her shoulders and down her arm. The way the dress hugs her body and only complements, doesn’t hide. How she looks fantastic in a little pink, and I know, in this moment, that I have no intention of looking into any other pair of eyes for the rest of my life.

I ignore the heat of my grandmother’s anger I can feel somewhere in the room. The camera phone here or there that’s probably documenting this. And anyone who might be whispering or laughing, because my mom’s right.

There are people who will never be lucky enough to feel this.

• • •

I probably pull her too roughly, but I’m just too full of energy. We burst through the front doors, out onto the front walkway just before the circular drive, and I swing her into my arms.

“Well, that was fun,” she teases.

I paw the back of her dress, pulling the tie to the corset as I breathe in the balmy air and bite her lips.

“These dresses suck,” I growl in a low voice over her mouth.

“I agree,” she groans. “I feel like meringue.”

I laugh and grab her hand, both of us running to the parking lot and toward our limo. An hour was long enough, right? We stood our ground, danced, held hands, and now it’s time to get out of Dodge before I have to subject her to my grandmother. That will happen eventually.

Tonight, she’s mine. I back her into the car and press myself between her legs as I yank up her skirt and try to find her skin in all the fabric.

“School’s going to be fun on Monday,” I whisper.

“You scared?”

“No.”

At this moment, not at all. And I don’t think I will be when the time comes either. I mean, I’m pretty sure most of Marymount knows by now. Someone in there tweeted and snapped a picture.

Which reminds me…

I pull out my phone as Liv sucks on my neck, sending shivers across my body. I switch off my phone and tuck it back inside my breast pocket.

I grab her and we both can’t get close enough to each other.

“Get it!” someone calls out, followed by a whistle.

I scowl, looking over my shoulder. Krisjen stands with Aracely by the back door of the banquet hall, both of them smoking.

I roll my eyes and open the door, shoving Liv inside the limo. “Get in.”

Jumping in after her, the driver snaps to, his snoring cut off as he wakes up.

“Take me home,” I tell him, pressing the button to close the partition between us and pulling off my hat.

I see him nod before I lose sight of him. A moment later, the engine starts.

“Undo me,” Liv pants, giving me her back as she turns her head and kisses me.

“God, I love you so much,” I tell her, yanking the thread of the corset, loosening her gown, but unable to keep my mouth off her neck, shoulders, and lips.

Reaching back, she wraps her hand around the back of my neck. “Let’s go to my house, instead,” she says, kissing me. “I want you loud tonight.”

Fine, okay. God, I don’t care where we go. I just need her.

“You let that girl wear your jacket,” I grit out, finally pulling her bodice down.

She scoots the dress off and shoves it to the floor. “Oh, calm down. You can’t kill her.”

I wrap one arm around her stomach, her tight corset keeping me from her skin. I stick my other hand down her panties. “Can I stick my tongue down your throat in front of her?”

She breathes out a laugh between kisses. “I like you jealous.”

Reaching up, I press the intercom. “Take us to 2743 Devon Road, instead.”

“Yes, Miss Collins,” the driver replies.

“Yes, Miss Collins,” Liv mimics.

I release the button, take her in my arms, and eat up her mouth so fast I don’t know if I can wait.

“God, drive faster,” I beg the driver, too softly for him to hear.

I kiss her forehead and every inch of her face, learning her body like it’s my home. Every curve. Every bone. Every patch of skin.

This is my girl. And I know I was made for her.

A screech hits my ears moments before the limo halts, and I grab onto Liv with one hand and the back of the seat with the other, keeping us steady.

What the hell?

The limo stops, and I don’t have time to remove the partition to talk to the driver before the glass on the door shatters, and an arm reaches inside the car and unlocks it.

I gasp, every muscle hard as I pull Liv back. But I’m not fast enough.