The Outfit Clash: I'm Told to Strip novel · Chapter 16 of 24

Chapter 16: Stay

He picked his jacket up off the kitchen floor.

He hung it on the hook by the door, very neatly.

Then he held out his hand.

I took it, and we walked down the hall.

Maddie's music thumped faintly behind her door.

I unlocked mine with the new key. It stuck. I had to jiggle it.

"Facilities," Will said.

"Don't."

"Twice-renovated facilities."

I laughed and pulled him inside and locked the door behind us.

I let go of his hand and turned.

I reached up and worked the top button of his flannel free.

"I've wanted to do this since the fire escape," I said.

He exhaled.

"I've got you beat by a week," he said. "The pleats."

"The pleats."

"Georgia." His voice came out rough. "I've wanted to do this since you told Hunter the pleats went the wrong way."

I unbuttoned the next button.

"Then do it."

He caught my wrists, gentle, and kissed me.

This time it was slower.

This time he took my bottom lip between his teeth and pulled.

I made a sound I didn't recognize.

"Tell me what you want," he said against my mouth.

"Your shirt off."

"Then take it off."

I finished the buttons and pushed the flannel down his arms.

He let it drop.

Under it he wore an old white undershirt, thin, and I could see the shape of him through it.

I put my palm flat on his chest.

His heart was going as fast as mine.

"Yours now," I said.

He pulled my sweater up and over my head.

The static lifted my hair.

He dropped the sweater on the floor and looked at me.

His eyes moved from my face down to my collarbone, my bra, the waist of my jeans.

He looked at me like he was memorizing me.

"I've thought about this," he said.

"Tell me."

"At night. In my room. After the clinic."

"Tell me."

"I thought about your mouth." He touched my bottom lip with his thumb. "The way you wiped pizza sauce off mine with yours."

"You remember that."

"I wasn't hungry for the pizza."

I pulled him toward the bed.

"Lie down."

He did, on his back, his legs hanging off the edge, and I climbed over him.

I sat astride his hips and looked down at him.

His glasses were fogged again.

He took them off himself, reached past me, and set them on the desk.

Without them he blinked up at me, softer, and I could see how much he wanted this.

I leaned down and kissed his chest through the undershirt.

He shuddered.

"Take it off," I said.

He pulled it over his head.

Then my hands were on his skin, his shoulders, the flat of his stomach, the trail of hair below his navel.

He was leaner than I'd expected from the flannels, and warm.

I put my mouth where my hands had been.

He swore, low.

"Georgia."

"I like the way you say my name."

"Georgia."

I sat up and unbuttoned my jeans.

He watched me push them down and kick them off.

Then I was in my bra and underwear, straddling him, and he was hard under me.

I could feel the shape of him through his jeans.

I moved against him once, slow.

He grabbed my hips.

"Again."

I did it again.

"Again."

I did it again, and his grip tightened.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"You." His voice cracked. "You."

"What do you want, Will?"

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