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I shut the door, and his hand caught the wood, stopping me from closing it tight. My heart jolted as the muscles of his forearm bunched and flexed.
The door pushed open against my protest, and he met my stare. “It matters to me.”
I couldn’t do this dance with him anymore. It hurt too much to watch him move on, and I couldn’t do anything with him long term. “Get out of my home.”
He shoved his way into my apartment, and I took a startled step back. “No. I want to talk to you.”
“Well, I have nothing to say to you. You’re breaking and entering.”
He shut the door behind him and stepped over the pile of bags on the floor. I took another step backward. And another, but he intruded deeper and deeper into my personal space.
“You’re the one who refused to answer my calls or the door. What was I supposed to do, wait around forever?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you stick your dick in a few randoms while you figure it out?”
“You’re angry because you care.”
“I’m angry because you won’t get out of my fucking apartment!” The back of my thighs bumped the arm of the sofa.
He stopped walking when he was only a few inches in front of me. His eyes, pinched at the corners, stared down at me, his mouth flat. “Why does it have to be like this?”
I looked away, unable to hold his stare. “You said it did.”
“I said I didn’t want to be your friend.”
“Well … your texts proved that to be true.”
“I was angry. I don’t like feeling ignored.”
“I told you all I could offer was friendship and you refused to listen.”
“Why? Why is that all you can offer?”
“We’ve been through this, Noah.”
“Walk me through it again.”
My eyes closed. Why did my chest suddenly hurt? “You’re too much.”
“Too much what?”
Everything. He was too intense, too real, too attractive, sometimes too sweet. Always too dangerous. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to restate the facts.
“I’m moving in five months. I just need to finish the semester and graduate.”
Warm fingers slid into my hair, and I flinched, pressing my eyes tighter, so they remained shut.
“Where will you go?”
“Anywhere I want.”
“Why are you always running? Maybe just stop for a second and appreciate where you are.”
His thumb dragged over my lips, and I swallowed the urge to whimper. He stepped closer, and I stopped breathing.
“You’re so beautiful. Avery. So strong yet fragile. I want to rattle you and protect you. Just let me in. Please.”
Warm breath teased my cheek as his voice lowered, and his head angled closer. I let out a whimper as he rasped, “Don’t move.” Soft lips traced delicately over mine, and I didn’t pull back. His mouth firmed, and I shamefully leaned into him. Slowly, he tipped his head, and his tongue pressed past my lips, swiping softly over mine.
I turned my face away. “Don’t.”
He turned my lips back to his. “Stop telling me no.” His long body pressed warmly against my front as my hands caught the side of the sofa.
There was no escaping him, not because he held me down or had me cornered, but because only half of my brain wanted him to go away. The other half very much wanted him to keep kissing me.
My hand lifted to his chest, riding over the curve of his broad shoulder and pulling him closer. I was tired of fighting the attraction, and when he touched me like this, it seemed impossible to push him away and so natural to give him everything he wanted.
My muscles loosened as my grip tightened on his shoulders, and he eased me back. My mouth opened, and he groaned with satisfaction.
“I’ve missed kissing you,” he whispered, taking it deeper and sliding his hands around my back. “I’ve missed hearing your voice.”
My bottom shifted to the sofa, and his legs filled the narrow space between my knees. His hands massaged my ass, strong, groping clasps sending little shockwaves to my pussy.
My fingers tugged at the collar of his coat, seeking the heat of his skin. He moaned at the first brush of contact and pressed his erection further into the cradle of my thighs. Then we were falling.
The couch cushions caught my back as his body blanketed mine, our legs tangling as he pressed into me, kissing, rocking, tormenting. I stopped pretending I had any sort of objection and gave in to the pleasure he offered. My hands pulled at his coat, wanting to get it off, see his body, touch him with nothing in between.
“Take this off,” I demanded, tugging at his layers of clothing, wanting it all gone.
He sat up and quickly removed the garment. I did the same. He tossed his to the floor, but mine wasn’t so easy. I twisted and yanked my arms, wrenching the material away. By the time I wrestled it off, I was out of breath.
