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The movie ambles on, and while I try to focus on the couple who each start to realize the other isn’t so bad, all I can do is think about Rake’s huge, warm hand on mine, and how he smells like Dial soap.
I love Dial soap.
“Rake?” I say in a small voice.
“Petal?” he answers. He does not turn from the TV.
I keep my gaze fixed on it as well. If he’s going to shut me down, I don’t want him to see my face. “I liked your hand on my butt. If you ever want to do it again…”
He shrugs. “I probably won’t. But thank you for the offer.”
My mouth drops open, totally not expecting an insult, and just as I’m mustering up some snappy, brilliant comeback, he beats me to it.
In an instant, he turns to me, placing a hand on either side of my face. “I know you liked it, even if you didn’t have a giant erection like I did, announcing it for the whole world to see. And I think you’re going to like this too.”
He pulls me to him and lays a hot, juicy kiss right on my lips.
He’s right. I do like it.
25
RAKE
I am so fucked.
Every guy’s first crush is on the girl next door, even if she isn’t exactly right next door. She might be two houses down, a block over, or hell, even in the next town, but she’s the girl we grew up watching from a distance, hoping like hell she’d throw a glance our way. If we’re lucky, she might smile at us. If we’re really, really lucky, she might even talk to us.
That wanting, that longing, is one of life’s great pains. You’ll do anything for this girl’s attention, even give away your freaking right arm.
And that innocent crush never really goes away. We might think it does as our tastes expand, and we meet women who’ll give us anything we want. But there’s always the unobtainable girl next door who’s somehow wickedly elusive and sexy as fuck without even trying.
That’s who I’m sitting next to right now. And it’s killing me. Petal Parker is fucking killing me. I mean, what chick makes fun of a guy’s hard-on?
But I’ll worry about that later, because right now, I’m on a mission. Ever since Petal slipped off her jeans to reveal red and white heart-covered cotton panties, I’ve found it hard to breathe.
I trail my lips down the side of her neck, unzipping the stupid hoodie she wears everywhere, pushing it down one shoulder for better access. With my hands on either side of her face, I turn her to reach the other side of her neck, kissing and nipping every bit of her soft flesh I can get my mouth on.
I brush along her jawline, then return to her lips, the ones that were so pliant under me moments before. I pull back so I can look at her light brown eyes and, never having been this close to her, realize they have little specks in them.
“I want more,” she whispers, and all intelligent thought flees from my already blood-starved brain.
I could get lost for hours in this woman’s lips. She parts hers slightly, following my lead, and our tongues share this perfect rhythm, teasing and exploring.
I stand and, with her hand in mine, lead her to my bedroom, giving her time to bail if she feels the need. But she follows without hesitation, and while I know that what I really want to do is far from a done deal, I’m thinking maybe she likes me a little more than she’s let on.
I toss aside her hoodie and pull her T-shirt off over her head. She’s now standing there in her heart-covered panties and a blue bra, the set completely mismatched, and yet so fucking sexy I lose my breath. I crouch to remove her socks and pull my own shirt off.
She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of my sweats and eases them down an inch or two, looking from my stomach, to my face, and back, with a wickedly teasing expression. And thanks to this, my dick is rock hard and tenting the front of my pants.
“Somebody’s excited,” she sings.
“No fuck, Petal. Look what you do to me.”
Her gaze locks with mine, and wearing a little half smile, she palms my erection on the outside of my sweats, just smoothing over the head and then underneath, where she reaches between my legs to pass her hand over my aching sack.
Goddamn that feels good.
While she plays with me, I lower her bra straps off her shoulders and pull the fabric beneath her tits. They’re rounder and fuller than I’d expected, with dark nipples that tighten up the moment I put my hands on them. I knead them, watching her expression to see how hard she can take it, and when I pinch one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, her eyes flutter half-closed.
