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She put her key in the deadbolt and turned it but didn’t open the door. Instead, she turned around so her back was against the doorframe and looked up at him.
He should definitely get the fuck out of here. The last time was the last time. But his feet moved closer instead of walking away.
“I guess we can be around each other without someone losing their clothes,” he managed to say instead of I-want-to-throw-you-over-my-shoulder-and-take-you-upstairs-to-my-apartment-now. “Your skirt stayed on. Your sweater is still in place. And unless you made moves I didn’t notice during dinner, your panties are exactly where they’re supposed to be.”
Fucking A, Matsen. You do not need to be thinking about her panties.
Astrid ignored the part about her underwear and nodded. “And it was completely easy. We could do it anytime we want it.”
“Without a doubt,” he agreed.
Fuck. They were so close. Inches. All he had to do was dip his head down and he’d be kissing her, tasting that sweet mouth of hers, pressing against her, cupping her ass, picking her up so she could wrap her legs around him and—
It took just about everything he had, but he eased his hand free, stepped back, and added in layers of air between them that didn’t do jack shit to make it any easier to walk away.
So he stood there like some kind of creep as she turned back to her door and opened it, revealing a studio apartment with a living room area that—unlike his—had more than a folding chair and a TV in it.
She started to walk inside and stopped, turning around in the doorway. “Since we’re so good at this keeping-our-clothes-on thing, maybe we should test it out and see how it works inside.”
Not picking her up and sprinting inside was about the hardest thing he’d ever done, and he’d had to learn how to walk again after the muscles in his thigh were severed. All the surgeries and physical therapy suddenly didn’t seem so bad compared to not walking through that door right now.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asked, throwing out one last life preserver for their better judgment.
She took a few steps backward into her apartment, her chin tilting up in an unspoken dare. “I’m up for the challenge if you are.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Astrid stepped inside and waited, her heart in her throat and butterflies doing loop-de-loops around her stomach. She didn’t even bother to turn on the light when he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. It wasn’t as if she needed more than the tiniest sliver of light coming in from the window above her bed. By this point in their whatever it was they were doing, she could have seen him even if she was blindfolded and standing behind a brick wall.
Inviting him inside was either a bad idea or the best one she’d ever had—either option was bad news, but she just didn’t have it in her to care at this moment. Not when Cal was here in her apartment—the one place she never brought anyone she was just fucking—and he looked like he belonged here.
That should have been her cue to shove him out the door and triple-lock it behind his absolutely delectable and very squeezable ass. Maybe last week she would have had the wherewithal to do that.
But not now.
Not with Cal.
So she did the only thing she could. She kissed him.
It was like throwing kerosene on a bonfire during a hundred-year drought. His hands were everywhere. She couldn’t touch him enough. She needed to feel him, taste him, have him right now.
It couldn’t wait.
She couldn’t wait—not when just kissing him was like finding home.
But there were too many clothes in the way. She grabbed the hem of his soft pink sweater—part of her hating to see it go—and yanked it up so she could slide her fingers underneath. She had plans to shove the whole thing up and off of him, but she got distracted by the feel of him—the heat of his skin, the unyielding strength of him, and the way his abs tensed under her touch—before he broke the kiss and let out a groan of pleasure.
Cal hooked his fingers into the waistband of her skirt and held her firm against him. “You’re not playing fair.”
She wiggled her fingers now trapped between their bodies. “I’m barely touching you.”
“Exactly,” he all but growled.
The rough sound of his voice scratched an itch Astrid didn’t even realize she had until she met him. But the thing was it didn’t make it go away. The want still buzzed across her skin, demanding more, always more, of him. Of course, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to tease him first.
She looked up at him with wide innocent eyes and cocked her head to the side. “I thought the point of this was not to let it go too far.”
“Any hope of that was lost the moment you gave me that bag of Cheetos that first night.” He dipped his head down and kissed her, hard and demanding and too damn short. “Too far is never far enough with you. I will always want more.”
