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It’s almost painful to realize how much I want to believe him. What worries me is that the odds of a relationship working out aren’t in our favor. Would we be able to remain friends afterward? Could life go back to what it’s always been? He means too much to me, and the thought of him not being my best friend, the guy I can share everything with, scares the crap out of me.
“I think it would be for the best if we keep our relationship platonic.” Emotion rushes through me, fighting to break free. It’s all I can do to keep the tears that burn the back of my eyelids at bay.
“I can’t do that,” he growls, dragging my face closer until the warmth of his breath drifts over my parted lips.
“Easton...”
My voice dies a quick death when his mouth crashes onto mine. Every protest clamoring inside me is instantly silenced. When his tongue peeks out to tease the seam of my lips, I keep them pressed together, knowing that if the kiss turns deeper, I’ll be lost. Swept away on a turbulent sea of longing. A rumble of displeasure erupts from him when I continue to resist his advances.
He pulls away just enough to growl, “Open for me.”
And then he’s back again, storming my defenses and demanding entrance. He nips at my lower lip with sharp teeth, and I gasp at the unexpected sizzle of pleasure-infused pain. That second of stunned surprise is all it takes for him to force his way inside until his tongue can tangle with my own.
With his hands cupping the sides of my face, he angles my head in order to gain better access. A whimper escapes from me as he changes the angle and slows things down. Now that the floodgates are open, it’s impossible to hold back or pretend that I don’t want this. That I haven’t wanted it for years. My arms twine around his neck, pulling him closer until my breasts are crushed against the hard lines of his chest.
The way his mouth roves hungrily over mine, sampling it like he’ll never get enough weakens my knees. Any moment, I’m going to melt into a pile of heated wax at his feet. I’ve imagined what it would be like to kiss Easton hundreds of times—maybe more—but all of those daydreams have been reduced to a paper tiger in comparison to the reality.
“You taste so damn sweet,” he mutters.
His hands drift from my cheeks to my shoulders before slowly sliding down the side of my ribcage to my waist where his fingers curl, biting into my flesh. Arousal explodes in my core as he drags me close enough to feel his cock digging into the softness of my belly. When his hands fall from my waist over the curve of my hip before settling on my backside, another burst of need explodes in me. He tightens his hold, squeezing the firm flesh as if he’ll never release it.
Easton breaks away long enough to search my eyes with a heavy-lidded gaze that burns with intensity before lifting me into his arms. My head spins as he swings around and carries me through the tiny dining area before arriving in my room. With his foot, he kicks the door shut and deposits me on the bed.
My heart jackhammers as I bounce on the mattress before settling. My legs are stretched out in front of me, knees slightly bent as I prop myself up with my elbows. My attention stays focused on him as his fingers grip the hem of his Navy T-shirt and yank it up, revealing perfectly sculpted abdominals and pectorals.
Once he tosses the cottony material to the carpet, he stalks closer. My nerves ratchet up with every step. His wide palms find the bed as he crawls up my body until his mouth is able to align with mine. My elbows collapse under his weight until I’m stretched out flat as he hovers over me. We still as our breaths mingle. It’s a drugging sensation.
Carefully, he presses his lips against the corner of my mouth before giving the same ardent attention to the other side. And then it’s like the floodgates open as he rains sweet kisses over every inch of my face.
“You can’t begin to understand how much I want you,” he groans between caresses. “I told myself that I didn’t, but it was a lie. One I’ve been trying to convince myself of for a while now.”
It’s everything I’ve always wanted to hear, but still...I can’t help the fear that leaps to life deep inside me.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I whisper in the darkness of the room.
“There’s no way you’ll ever lose me.” He rolls to the side before settling next to me. His fingers flirt with the bottom of my shirt where they hesitate. “Do you trust me?”
That’s not a question I have to ponder. There has never been a time in my life when I didn’t have absolute faith in Easton. Anywhere he led, I would blindly follow.
I nod.
“You realize I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”
The air trapped at the back of my throat rushes from my body in a burst. “I do.”
That admittance has my muscles loosening and I sink into the softness. Easton gathers up the fabric of my shirt before carefully dragging it up my body and over my head, dropping it to the floor. His fingers return, slipping around the sides of my ribs before finding the latch in the middle of my back. I arch, giving him room to maneuver until the stretchy material snaps apart and he’s able to remove it, leaving me as bare-chested as he is.
Nerves explode in me, making me aware of my unclothed state. No matter how close we’ve been, he’s never seen my naked breasts. It’s almost impossible to remain still beneath the heavy burn of his gaze as it roves over me. I don’t realize that I’ve lifted my arms in an attempt to cover myself until his fingers lock around my wrists, halting my movements.
“Don’t. I want to look at you.” His voice is deep and low. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
My nipples tighten beneath his heavy-lidded gaze. It’s all the invitation he needs to reach out. A gasp escapes from me when his heated palms cover me entirely, testing the soft weight before disappearing. A second after the cool air wafts over my flesh, his thumb and forefinger lock around the stiff peaks, gently pinching them in tandem until my back is bowing off the mattress.
Arousal spirals through every nerve ending, lighting me up from the inside out. It’s like he knows exactly how to touch me to elicit an avalanche of pleasure. Most guys are more interested in themselves and their own gratification. That’s not the case with Easton. His focus remains locked on me as he toys with my breasts, alternating between squeezing the plump flesh and tweaking the little buds until I’m writhing beneath him.
Just when I can’t stand another second of this sweet torture, his large hands drift over my ribcage and belly before settling at the waistband of my jeans. His gaze, which had been following the path of his hands, lifts to mine in silent question.
It’s one that has the potential to change the trajectory of our entire friendship.
