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As my fingers stroke the bottom of her breast, I use my other hand to sweep her hair off her shoulder and unclasp the pearl necklace I bought her for Christmas. Our connection stays when I carefully set the necklace onto the bed. Never has my heart pounded so intensely when I replace my hand resting on her neck with my lips, skimming them along her soft skin.
“Tell me to stop,” I hiss. “Fuck, Lina. Tell me.”
11
Carolina
“Tell me to stop.Fuck, Lina. Tell me.”
My heart races at Rex’s pleas, but I’m selfish. That word isn’t leaving my lips tonight. I don’t want him to stop. I want more—of his touch, of his lips, of everything that is him. The deep breaths pulling from his chest and his erection pressing against my back confirm I’m not alone in my desire.
His lips linger at the curve of my neck while he waits for me to push him away, to sayno.When his hand grazes the underside of my breast again, I can’t stop myself from grinding my ass against him.
Big mistake.
Huge.
All this in Julia Roberts’s voice.
It’s as if my move wakes his restraint and slaps him in the face with reality.
His hands drop from my body as if I’d caught fire, and he jerks away, fleeing to the other side of the room. I glance back over my shoulder to find him resting against the dresser, agony lining his features, and he presses a fist against his lips.
“Shit, Carolina,” he finally chokes out. “I’m so damn sorry.”
A brief silence passes, as if we’re both battling our next move. My back stays to him while I stand by the bed. Rejection doesn’t exactly make a girl want to put her boobs on display. He already has a view of my bare butt.
My gaze sharpens when he slowly eases my way and swipes the tee off the bed. A brief pause happens before he advances a step farther. I can’t stop myself from laughing when he slips the shirt over my head, and as soon as the job is done, he promptly returns to his side of the room. When I turn around, there’s no missing the anguish on his face.
He frowns, dragging a hand through his thick hair, and releases a long breath of frustration. “That wasn’t cool. I’m sorry.”
I shift from one foot to the other, pulling at the bottom of the shirt while chewing on my lower lip. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Rex.” Heat creeps up my cheeks. “In fact, I highly encourage you to keep touching me.Don’tstop.”
He gapes at me. “You’re drunk. Not happening.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m tipsy.” I smirk. “It won’t be the first time I’ve had tipsy sex.”
His upper lip snarls, and his words leave in a deep hiss. “Don’t even think about going on about that shit.” His tone hardens. “Conversation change, motherfucking pronto.”
I gesture down my body. “I’m standing upright with no assistance from you, nor am I slurring my words or puking my guts out. I’m not drunk.” To further prove my point, I hold a leg up, standing on only one while doing my best to balance myself, before repeating it with the other leg. I end my move with a ta-da gesture.
My awesome skill doesn’t change his mind.
“I’m not ruining us by having sex.” He rubs the nape of his neck while cursing under his breath.
“Just like with my virginity, we’ll act like it never happened,” I argue.
Why do I suddenly want this so much?
Is it because I spied on him while he jerked off, and I can’t stop seeing it in my mind?
Or because I’m having such a good time with the boyfriend-girlfriend game we’re playing, and I want it in real life?
Is it the alcohol giving me the bravery?
I’d say a mix of the three.
He stepped up and played boyfriend.
