Page 62 of Blush Crush

Her hands slide up my chest and her fingers wrap around the back of my neck and she kisses me back like maybe she’s been thinking about it for as long as I have. Wishful thinking on my part, but it’s enough to feed me, to keep devouring her, to take what I want for the briefest of moments and indulge in the woman I can’t resist. The tentative version of her from thirty seconds ago is gone. In its place is a temptress who was just waiting to be drawn out by someone who knew exactly what she needed. And I’m the lucky bastard who gets to be that someone.

We break apart at the same moment, breathing ragged, foreheads nearly touching.

Her eyes open slowly and I watch her come back to herself—the awareness, then the faint flush that starts at her chest and moves up. Her fingers are still loosely curved around the back of my neck and I don’t think she’s noticed yet.

She steps back and I fight the urge to pull her toward me again. She smooths her hands down the front of her jeans, looking like she’s trying to compose herself. I turn toward thefireplace because I need somewhere to look that isn’t her right now. My body is all too aware of where that could’ve gone, and I’m having a hard time coming back down to reality.

I press two fingers to my mouth for just a second, just long enough to feel the ghost of her still there.

I thought our arrangement would solve everything. Instead, I think it’s going to be a big fucking problem.

CHAPTER 19

Ariana

PART OF THE CURRICULUM

Cole gave me a vibrator for Christmas.

That makes this the second year in a row I’ve been gifted one. Really gives a whole new meaning tocome to Jesus.

We haven’t hung out alone since the night at his house, but we’ve seen each other plenty. He’s gotten back into the habit of coming into Novel for his chocolate croissant and the daily special, same as before, and somewhere in the last couple of weeks it started feeling like it used to before he dropped off the face of the planet.

He stopped by on Christmas Eve as I was closing up and handed me a small, beautifully wrapped box with a ribbon on top. I should’ve known by his mischievous smile that it wasn’t your run-of-the-mill gift.

“What’s this?” I turned it over in my hands, trying to figure out what he could’ve possibly gotten me.

“A present. Open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.” I tried to hand it back. “I can’t accept this.”

“Doll.” He stepped forward and gently placed both hands on my shoulders. “Open the present. You know you want to.”

Reluctantly, I slipped the ribbon off carefully and peeled back the wrapping paper to reveal a plain white box. As soon as I lifted the lid and saw what was inside, I slammed it back down and looked up to find him already smiling. Full and wide and completely shameless. He’d just been waiting for the exact moment I figured it out.

“Oh my God,” I hissed even though we were the only ones in the shop. “You got me a vibrator? Why in the world would you get me that?”

“Consider it part of the curriculum,” he said casually. “You and I both know I heard every word of that conversation you had with Layla back in the summer. Even your own sister got you one and you still haven’t used it, have you?”

The heat rising up my neck was answer enough. I hadn’t touched that vibrator. Not once.

“Look, this isn’t meant to embarrass you. All I’m trying to do is encourage you to find out what you like. How am I supposed to make you come if you’re not sure how to get there yourself?”

He had a point. Didn’t mean I had to like it.

“So if you already know I have one, why buy me another? Aren’t they basically the same thing?”

His lips flicked up in a crooked smirk that sent a ripple of heat through me. It was a flame worthy of starting a wildfire if I let it.

“I want you to use this one specifically. It’ll…prepare you better for the real thing.”

Curiosity got the better of me, and I reopened the box to examine it more carefully this time.

The first thing I noticed was how big it was—like, significantly bigger than the modest little thing Layla had gifted me. This one, though pink in color, had a more realistic quality to it—prominent veins and ridges, details not found in your standard, off-the-shelf one. It looked unique. Very, very unique.

“What did you do?” I asked, my voice faint and almost in disbelief.

“It’s a replica.” He fought a smile. “Of mine.”