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“You. I want you, Jake. I want you to fuck me.”
He sucks in a breath. More silence for a moment. The only sounds filling the hallway are our heartbeats pounding in our chests.
Feeling his muscles tense beneath my fingers, I dig my nails into his shirt, but I’m unable to find purchase, even as I slide further down his toned torso.
His lips brush mine as he whispers, “I knew you were going to be trouble.”
I know I’m wrong.
This will change things.
But my foolish, aching heart won’t listen.
And I need to protect it.
As if sensing my hesitation, he slips back but only an inch, our chests still pressed against each other, my breasts heavy from the friction.
“We need rules,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, hushed in the atmosphere of this landing. “If we’re going to do this, we need rules.”
Whiskey eyes coat over me, and those alone make me dizzy.
I’m drunk on him.
An addict.
And I know the further we dive into this, I’ll become intoxicated, and I won’t be able to stop.
He cocks a brow. My heart slams against the walls of my chest when I notice a brief moment of amusement.
“I know where this is going. For me and for you, we need rules.”
His throat bobs as he swallows hard. Another animalistic flick of his hips, and my head falls back against the wall.
“Rules,” he agrees with a dip of his chin.
My nerves creep in until they’re clawing at my insides. But I know I can’t back away from this.
“Don’t kiss me.”
There’s a flash of realization.
This isn’t just for me.
This is for us both.
I know if he kisses me, I will fall so deep and so hard into him, I will lose myself. Maybe not all of myself, but I will most definitely lose pieces, and truth is, I’ve already lost too many. I don’t have enough to make me whole.
The wall beneath me feels cool against my skin, and I concentrate on that.
I know this look.
It’s recognition.
He knows.
He knows what kissing involves, and there’s an intimacy to that neither of us can deny.
This isn’t about intimacy.
