“Think all you want.” We both know what her answer is going to be, I say inwardly. But she still needs to come to terms with it. If I have it my way, by the end of the weekend, that won’t be the first realization she’ll have.
Fuck.Our. Brains. Out.
Ever since our chat earlier, I can’t think of anything else. This is insane, but it’s like my body made the choice for me. There’s a hot stir circling inside me, a perpetual state of unrest. I’ve been so wet, changed my underwear twice already.
He’s walked out on me once.
Now, I’ll be the one walking out after this weekend. Why not enjoy the time in between? That little naughty voice inside me suggests.
“Eliza,” his sister calls me. “Are you enjoying dinner?”
I look at my delicious wagyu steak. How could anyone not enjoy it? “Of course.”
We’ve been eating on the long table outside, a delicious five-course meal. He’s sitting next to me, and thankfully his cousin James is talking to him. I’m fooling myself if I say I can sleep with him for a whole weekend and not get hurt at the end.
Denying it would be the right thing to do. I take a sip of the rich red wine.
But denying… is impossible. I haven’t had sex since he left. Vibrators are awesome, but if they were attached to a hot guy like Beck, they’d be perfect. I sigh.
I drink more wine, but it only helps my common sense dissipate.
He turns to me, and comes close enough that I feel his breath tickling my ear. The little hairs on the end of my neck stand on end, a sizzling awareness traveling through me. There’s chatter around us, Aunt Lillian telling a long-winded story that has most of them laughing.
“Yes or no?” he demands, his voice hoarse.
His words send me on an internal spiral. I part my lips, lightheaded. “Maybe you can sway me.”
He glances around us, as if to make sure no one is paying attention to us. Besides the dim lighting of tiki torches and the candles on the table, there isn’t much light around us. Aunt Lillian is telling yet another story, one that is triggering follow-up questions and comments.
He lowers his hand under the table, discreetly, like one would touch their linen napkin.
I chew my lower lip, a warm glow of anticipation crossing my chest.
He lands his hand on my thigh, and I bite my tongue to keep a very spontaneous moan from escaping my lips. I square my shoulders, willing myself to behave. The moment he hikes up the hem of my dress and slides his fingers on my inner thigh, fire is flowing in my veins.
I stare at him, but besides a small victorious smile curling his lips, he’s not giving anything away. I should take another bite of this delicious food, but I’m so amped up I doubt I can focus on eating and resisting him.
Resisting him… why should I?
Why should I deny him? Most importantly, deny myself?
I part my thighs a smidge, and he takes full opportunity and glides a couple of fingers in my pussy. I suck in a breath.
Aunt Lillian’s tale has now reached a peak, and the guests are laughing and reaching for their drinks.
I’m soaking wet, and he’s touching me.
A hot wave of embarrassment spreads through my cheeks and neck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I lean to the side, so eager to erase the distance between us, and my shoulder brushes his. “Beck.”
He thrusts a couple of fingers in my pussy, and I bite my cheek to keep from moaning, or straight up jumping on his lap and finishing this thing right here, right now. Then, he dips his head a notch. “Yes or no?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “Yes.”
He withdraws his fingers from me, and straightens himself on the chair. Bastard.