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I heard movement.

“Fucking stop it.”

All I could hear was his heavy breathing.

I knew the position I was in, I wasn’t blind or stupid.

And he couldn’t either, because I felt pressure right under where my jean shorts connected with him.

My panties flooded.

This.

This fucking feeling.

His hands lied on either side of him, not touching me at all.

“I figured it out.”

Silence.

“You.”

My voice shook.

“It was you.”

He went still under me.

“Sullivan.”

Nothing.

I stared into the darkness where I knew his face was.

“Four years.”

My throat tightened.

“Four fucking years, and it was you the entire time.”

He tried to move.

I pushed my hips farther down into the bed.

This time, he couldn’t hide his low groan.

This is what the fuck I’ve wanted.

What I’ve been fucking craving.

“No.”

His hands finally moved and rested on my hips.

“Don’t you fucking move again.”

His breathing was heavy beneath me.