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She glares at me, clearly unamused with me.
“You’re a pig,” she says.
“You wish it didn’t turn you on,” I respond.
“Cole,” she warns.
I put my hands up in defense.
“Sorry,” I say, walking over to the couch.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.
“Sitting down,” I say.
“You can’t be serious? There’s no way we can sit on the couch together,” she says, looking panicked.
“Why not? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?” I chuckle.
“It’s not my hands I’m worried about,” she says, putting her hand on her hip.
“I won’t touch you, princess. Unless you beg me to,” I say.
“You’re impossible,” she says, joining me on the couch.
I don’t miss that she tries to scoot as far away from me as she possibly can.
“I don’t bite,” I tell her, enjoying every minute of this.
She gives me a look like she knows better, raising her eyebrow.
“Hope you like horror movies,” she says, pushing play on a Jason movie.
“I wouldn’t peg you for a fan of scary,” I tell her.
“There's a lot you don’t know about me,” she says, curling up on the couch.
I let my eyes roam over her body for a few minutes. Charlie is fucking perfect. I don’t know why I never noticed it before. She has these long tan legs, and she’s currently got them curled up under her perfect ass. Her long dark hair is cascading over her shoulders, and when she gets close enough to me, I can smell the coconut from her shampoo. She has plump lips that are just begging to be kissed. What really sucks you in are her deep green eyes. They’re mesmerizing.
I’m so far gone for this fucking girl it’s laughable. I can deny it all I want, and I will, but it’s obvious to me. I’d fucking run through fire for her.
I adjust myself before she notices how hard I am just from looking at her. How the fuck did I let this happen? I’ve never let a girl get under my skin like this.
“Are you ignoring me?” she asks, bringing me back to reality.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask.
“I asked if you like scary movies?” She turns in her seat to face me.
Her legs are bent, but what I wouldn’t give to just spread her knees and stick my head between them.
“I don’t mind them,” I say.
“Cam won’t watch them with me,” she says, pouting, then pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.
Jesus Christ.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks quietly.
