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Hasn’t that been established already?
A mistake. We both made it.
So I don’t know why we’re talking about this now.
But apparently we are because he continues, now with his hands moving up and down my waist, “Interesting mistake though, isn’t it? Kissing your boyfriend’s best friend.”
His large, warm hands go from my ribs down to my waist, spanning my entire torso, his thumbs meeting in the middle of my tight tummy.
It’s distracting.
It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying, what he’s asking me when he’s stroking my entire belly like this.
So intimately.
More intimately than I can bear.
So I try to get away from him.
I try to unlock my ankles from his back and slide my arms away from his neck. But he doesn’t let me. He gathers me close, with both his hands going down to my thighs and hiking them up along his sleek waist.
Before leaning over me again and murmuring, “A mistake is something like forgetting an anniversary, for example. Or forgetting your boyfriend’s birthday. Getting your girlfriend a rose instead of a fucking daisy, which happens to be her favorite flower. That’s a mistake.”
“It was,” I tell him, my fingers digging into his bare shoulders. “I told you a million times that it was. I made a mistake. I don’t know why we’re talking about this. I don’t know —”
“We’retalkingabout this,” he squeezes my waist, making me arch my spine, “because kissing your boyfriend’s best friend isn’t a mistake.”
“That’s —”
“Kissing your boyfriend’s best friend is a secret forbidden wish.”
I shake my head. “N-not for me.”
His reddish-brown eyes are penetrating,knowing. “No?”
While mine are frantic and wide. “No. I never thought about you in that way. I never thought… I didn’t even want anything to do with you. Idon’twant anything to do with you, not like that.”
Oh God.
Oh my God.
I’m panicking. I’mpanicking.
Because his dark eyes look predatory.
Animalistic.
That glint. Thatsmirk.
Why is he smirking?
Why is he roving his eyes all over my face, my parted and trembling mouth?
Before moving down to my body. And I do too.
I can’t resist it.
I can’t resist staring at what he’s staring at.
