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I turn on Netflix, trying to fight back the intense joy surging through my veins knowing he’s with me tonight.
I don’t think he can ever feel what you feel.Gabriel’s words ring in my ears.
I swallow, launchingCrash Landing on You, as a huge knot clogs my throat.
“I hope they’llfinallyget laid.”
“Shut up,” I say with a smile.
I hear him laughing and his fingers glide over my ribs in a sudden, measured movement. I jump at the very unpleasant feeling it causes on my skin.
“Stop it,” I threaten. “Don’t touch the ribs.”
He chuckles, putting his arm back to his chest.
“You’re a child.”
I tap his arm.
“You’re an asshole.”
He slaps my hand. I glare at him; he bursts out laughing.
“Little brat.”
This time, I throw myself on him and shove my hands around his neck. He’s extremely ticklish and instinctively lowers his chin. Locking my wrists as I continue to force my way in to annoy him, he ends up pushing me violently. His whole body crashes into mine and his arms extend, trapping my wrists above my head to prevent any further attempts by me to piss him off. My legs are spread, and I have a very—too—precise feeling of his sex under his joggers.
He doesn’t wear underwear.
His face is only inches from mine, and he smiles with the proud look of the winner.
“You’re no match for me, kid.”
One of his hands loosens from his grip and he slowlystraightens up. One arm outstretched near my head, the second remains busy keeping me in this position. All my senses are on alert. My clitoris is burning, my muscles itching and my breathing becoming difficult. I can easily blame it on his body crushing me, but I know it’s also due to the way he looks at me. From the way he’s lying, far from being disturbed, I can tell that he doesn’t have a hard-onat all.
My ego takes a hit, and I don’t know if it’s him, his smell, the warmth of his body, the reactions of mine, or the obvious rejection I notice in his posture that’s making me dothisstupidthing. But I move my face forward and put my mouth against his.
He tenses up. My chest is exploding.
A raw desire pierces my belly and I savor the softness of his lips. But nothing goes as planned. My wrists are released and the weight on me comes undone, causing my skin to feel an icy emptiness.
I suddenly wake up from my torpor to take my mistake in the face.
My enormous and masterfully stupid fucking mistake.
I get up straightaway, my heart ready to cross my ribcage as its frantic beats rumble. Nolan is on the other end of the couch, staring at me, looking both horrified and terribly confused. I don’t dare stare at him any longer for fear of seeing some form of disgust appear on his face, then get on my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
I want to throw up. I bite my lower lip, trying to hold back the bile, the shame, and all the emotions that come and go.
“What wasthat?”
I feel him move and glance randomly in his direction to see him hunched over. Arms resting on his knees, he has not stopped looking at me with stupefaction and incomprehension.
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Forget it.”
Damn it.
