I’d gone to a frat party and had kissed Callum Samskevitch, right on the mouth. And then the asshole had made some cocky remark about my knees being weak. As if. But as I climbed the stairs to the main floor where the DJ was spinning dance music so loud it was shaking the whole house, I had to grab on to the railing. Air. I needed air. Weak knees. Guilty as charged. Holy shit. I kissed Callum Samskevitch. The truth was, I’d had plenty of kisses, but I’d never been kissed that way. In that totally breathless, hungry way. It felt so perfect. Like I’d stumbled into one of those sexy black-and-white picture-postcards of two people making out. Like we should’ve been on a bridge over the Seine, under an umbrella, instead of in a stuffy frat closet. I could still feel the electric jolt that coursed through my body when he’d touched my cheek.
What do You think about Score (Skin In The Game Book 1)?
