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“Well, I wasn’t talking about me,” I object.
“But now we are.” He smiles, and the swirl in my stomach does not go unnoticed.
“Whatever. You’re so annoying.”
“And you get riled up so easily,” he counters, that damn smile still firmly intact.
“I am not riled,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest as I settle back into the couch cushion.
“No?” he questions, scooting closer. “Then what do you call this business.” He peels one arm away from my chest and then the other, his fingers wrapping around my wrists.
“Just making sure you aren’t checking out my girls,” I quip playfully, trying to pull out of his grip—unsuccessfully.
“Too late for that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I check those beauties out every chance I get.”
“Shut up.”
I once again try wrestling out of his hold, but somehow only manage to scoot further down the couch until I end up pinned beneath his hard body and breathing heavily from my efforts.
“You know, for as strong of a person as you are, you really are quite weak,” he teases, his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my lips.
“Well, considering you’re like three times the size of me, I think you have me at an unfair advantage.” I try my damnedest to ignore the way my heart suddenly feels like it’s about to beat out of my chest at his nearness.
“Excuses, excuses.” He smiles, holding my gaze.
“Keep it up and I’m gonna show you excuses,” I warn.
“Is that so?” He slowly trails his hand down my side, the action causing my skin to erupt in goose bumps.
Just when I feel like I’m seconds from losing my grip on the situation, he squeezes my side, hard, and I squeal out in laughter. I hate being tickled, and yet I can’t help but laugh when someone tickles me. This only eggs Ant on more.
Before long, he’s got me withering below him and begging for him to stop. It’s this really weird confliction of emotions. Inside my head, I’m screaming for him to stop, but at the same time, the laughter bubbling out of me says something else entirely.
After what feels like an eternity but was likely no more than a minute or two, Ant finally stops, his assault clearly leaving him a bit winded. He collapses down on top of me, his weight suffocating and yet the sweetest kind of torture.
I can’t stop myself when my hands find his back and my fingers trace the skin just above his jeans where his shirt has ridden up. The way he stiffens on top of me only makes me want more, and yet somehow I find the strength to realize what I’m doing and stop myself.
Pulling my hands away, I clear my throat.
“You gonna get off me now, or are we just gonna stay like this all night?” I fake annoyance.
“I think I could be persuaded to move; then again, this might just be my favorite new spot.” His words are playful, but the look he’s giving me is anything but.
There’s something dark behind those incredible blue-gray eyes of his. Something that has heat flooding across my skin like I’ve just been submerged into a tub of boiling hot water.
I can feel the situation getting heavier with each moment that passes. I can feel the air shift around us, and I can’t seem to let go of the breath I’m currently holding in my lungs; afraid that if I do I might say or do something that I will most definitely regret.
“Tell me not to kiss you.” His words are a whispered plea, like he’s trying so hard not to cross the invisible line placed between us, but wants to just as much as I do.
“Don’t kiss me,” I say unconvincingly.
“Say it like you don’t want me to, Kingsley, otherwise I’m not sure I can stop myself.”
“I do want you to.” I meet his gaze, his face just an inch from mine now. “But you can’t,” I quickly add. “We can’t.”
“Why?” he groans, pressing down on me so that I can feel the clear indication of his arousal.
I can’t process the way that makes me feel. Knowing that he wants me too. Knowing that his body craves mine as much as mine craves his. It’s almost enough for me to throw out my reservations and dive in head first.
