“I could let you have me. Right here. Right now.”
A sound escaped me as I heard those words fall from her lips. I didn’t recognize it as mine. She was destroying me, unraveling every bit of control I’d tried to hang onto since the second I saw her again.
“This feels anything but friendly,” I whispered. “Are we still just friends, Trouble?”
I leaned into her, body begging, every muscle screaming to take. To claim. To taste her again.
And then, she pulled back. Smiling. Fucking smirking.
“Just friends.”
My chest caved. Air punched out of me like I’d been hit.
“Trouble—” My voice cracked.
She was saying no, but her actions said yes. Her lips brushed down my jaw, and I groaned because it wasn’t where I needed her.
“Think about me tonight.” She whispered, but she was looking right at me, taunting me. I wasn’t going to let her be in control, not tonight.
I rolled on top of her, spreading her legs with my knee, and pressed my hips against hers. My balls tightened at the sound of her shocked gasp.
“I told you I don’t like being messed with,” I whispered. I lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach. My hands moved up her inch by inch until they hovered just under the swell of her breasts. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, her skin pale from the moonlight coming through the blinds.
“What do you want from me?” she whispered; her breath raspy.
“I want to take this off,” I said, pointing to her shirt. She lifted her arms. I gently pulled the shirt over her head, making sure not to snag her arms. I threw it on the ground next to her, quickly glanced at her amazing breasts, and immediately started edging the waistband of her pajama shorts with my fingers.
“You like this, teasing me?” I whispered again. She licked her lips as I ran my hand up her bare leg.
“Yes,” she gloated. “Call it foreplay.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgment.
I leaned down so my lips hovered against her lips. “I’ve had seven years of foreplay with you. I’m pent up. So stop fucking teasing me.”
She put her hand on my bare chest, never taking her eyes off me. Earlier, we had been caught up in the moment, but now? This felt different. There was a heat, a real heat, that had been skimming the surface for so long. It was boiling over now. We were deliberately passing a line, daring each other to go farther than the other.
This was intentional. A choice. One that we were making together.
She looked up at me with a distinct hunger in her eyes, and I matched it. Her fingers grazed my ribs and stopped, hovering like she wasn’t sure if this was happening.
I slid my hand down, pulling her shorts off. She let me, lifting her hips so I could slide them off easily. I ran my hand down her abdomen, palm skimming the soft skin of her waist, waiting for her to stop me.
She didn’t. Instead, her lips parted, and she moaned. That sound sent me into fucking space.
I cupped her breast, thumbing over her nipple until she whimpered. Her back bowed. My hips rutted forward on instinct.
“I’m going to lose my mind,” I murmured, my forehead pressing to hers, our mouths brushing. “Being able to touch you like this, it’s…”
I was actually kind of lost for words. I didn’t know how to tell her how much I fucking loved her, how much this meant to me, how much she meant to me.
She grabbed my hand and tugged it lower, sliding it under the waistband of her panties. Not going to lie, I was going to fucking explode if she continued to take the lead like this. We were two matches to a flame.
“Still want to fake it?” I whispered. I really wanted her to say no.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she guided my hand between her legs, andfuck—she was soaked.
My control snapped. I dragged my fingers over her slick clit—slow and deliberate, circling her in tight circles. I had thought about touching her like this for years. Now that it was happening, I honestly was losing my shit over it.
