Page 58 of Ghost Ribbon

“Oh,” she said. “Right. Of course. I just meant—”

“Move to another table.” I commanded.

Sasha’s eyes widened a fraction. She looked at Marco again, searching for some kind of lifeline, some sign that he would stop me.

Marco didn’t stop me.

He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes.

“It’s okay,” he nodded. “You can go.”

Sasha hesitated.

After another beat she stood, smoothing her skirt with both hands.

“Alright,” she said, still wearing that brittle smile. “I’ll… see you later, Marco.”

The second she was gone, the noise of the cafeteria seemed to press in closer. I turned my full attention to Marco.

“Eat.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly. “She was just being nice.”

“She was touching what is mine.” The words came out before I could soften them.

Marco’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. He glanced at me sideways, cheeks already turning that pretty shade of pink I liked too much.

“I’m not… yours,” he whispered, but there was no real fight behind it. Just exhaustion. “We’re not… you know what I mean.”

I leaned in closer, resting my forearm on the table so my body blocked him from the rest of the room. The position forced him to either look at me or stare at his plate. He chose the plate.

“You let me lie to your mother,” I said, voice low. “You let me sit at your dinner table and call myself your boyfriend. You let me drive you to school and kiss you in the parking lot where anyone could see. What are you if not mine?”

He stabbed another piece of broccoli.

“I didn’t have a choice,” he muttered. “You cornered me. You always corner me.”

“Hm. I guess that is true.”

I watched him take the bite. Watched the way his throat moved when he swallowed. The strawberries on the edge of the plate were still untouched. I picked one up between two fingers and held it out to him.

“Open.”

His eyes flicked up to mine. I thought he might refuse. Then his lips parted, and I placed the strawberry on his tongue. He closed his mouth around it. I felt the faint brush of his lips against my fingertips.

The strawberry was gone, but my fingers stayed right there, hovering at his mouth. I watched the way his lips were still slightly parted from taking the fruit, soft and pink and trembling just the tiniest bit. I dragged the pad of my thumb across his lower lip, smearing the faint trace of juice left behind.

Marco’s breath hitched.

“I can’t wait to fuck this mouth, Malyshka.”

Marco’s entire face went scarlet in an instant. The flush spread down his neck and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. His eyes went wide, then immediately dropped to the table like he could hide from me there. He pulled back fast, almost knocking his chair an inch backward, and pressed his lips together so tightly they went white. His hands disappeared under the table, twisting together in his lap.

I studied him.

And then I saw it.

A very obvious, very hard bulge straining against the front of his pants.