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CHAPTER 8
Sydney
The kiss. The freaking kiss that was happening to her even as she was thinking about it. Jesse’s mouth. His lips. So soft. Warm. Delicious. He tasted good. Like something sweet, syrup or sugar or waffles with whipped cream. That kiss turned her inside out, spread a wicked fire up her legs, straight to her lady bits, which were suddenly so frustrated that the throbbing made her want to scream. Her nipples sharpened into tiny little points and her stomach was a tied-up mess that was not at all related to the hangover hell that gripped her hard. Freak, how can freaking tongue touching mine and his teeth nipping at my bottom lip make me want to orgasm?
It took all of her strength- and she was considerably strong from jogging two times a week and doing yoga on weekday mornings in her apartment, to push Jesse away.
She stepped back, panting hard, holding a hand to her vibrating lips. Yes. Vibrating. It felt like someone had clamped her onto a car battery and was pushing down hard on the accelerator, pumping her full of juice.
“W-what the hell was that?” She took a faltering step backward and nearly landed flat on her ass when her foot caught in the expensive looking woven rug.
It wasn’t the only expensive looking thing in the place. Jesse’s house was nice. Seriously nice, from what she’d seen of it, but she was not going to be swayed by that. Or his impressive send my butler to woo and kidnap you for me routine. Or his private jet. Or how he’d bulked up and filled out and, lord, looked like he could bench press her and eat her for breakfast. Frick. She was not going to think about that. About him eating her in any capacity. Shit. She was not looking down and noticing the way his dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal bronzed, veiny forearms, legit every single woman’s ultimate weakness. She was not dropping her eyes lower, to his expensive slacks and the bulge that was straining at the front of them.
Oh my god. Her ladybits were definitely not trembling, begging- whatever- for any of that bulge. Above all, she did not with a capital D, remember what that bulge felt like inside of her.
Okay, maybe she did remember just a little.
God. Jesse had kissed her all of one time before. That she remembered. The time that she refused to think about- the time that was not a time because she’d erased it completely out of her mushy ass mind and out of her even squishier, stupidly beating heart. So yes. Once.
It was that kiss that led to everything. Parents are right, kids, when they say that kissing leads to sin. It did lead to sin that night. The unforgiveable sin of sleeping with a best friend. It ruined everything. She had no choice but to run after, because that was the only option left. Staying and enjoying it in blissed-out pleasure for however long it lasted before everything went to shit- because everything always went to shit eventually, wasn’t on the agenda.
“How could you just- freaking kiss me?” she hissed when she realized Jesse was standing there, just as stunned looking as she probably was. He didn’t have any right to do the deer in the headlights routine. That was bullshit, also with a capital B.
“Because I wanted to show you that you wanted it.”
“No!” Sydney raised her hand to her lips like she could brush away that lingering kiss. “No! You don’t get to just- tell me what I want and don’t want. You’ve been trying to do that this whole time.”
“Because you said you wanted me to.”
“I’m saying now that I don’t.”
Jesse sighed, that annoying kind of sigh that her mom sometimes gave her, even as an adult. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard, Syd. We were best friends. We did everything together. Everything. You took off after that night when we could have either said it was a mistake and got over it or given it a try and taken things from there. But no. You ran because you were scared of what you felt.”
Before she could stop herself, she slammed her arms over her chest like a petulant kid. “Listen here, fucknuts, I was not scared. Not of my childhood best friend who I’ve seen cry on at least ten different occasions including once when the candles went out on his birthday cake before he could actually blow them out himself.”
“I was seven!”
“Old enough not to cry over stupid shit.”
Jesse’s jaw clenched up so hard that she heard it click. Yeah. He always did that when he was pissed. Good. He needed to be pissed. Maybe then he’d agree to let her go back home.
