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She could probably crack walnuts with them.
Why that image is so damn hot, I have no idea. I should be frightened. Not so turned on that I’m in imminent danger of going off like a shot.
“Maybe.”
That’s all the green light I need to proceed.
“Don’t you think we should do something about all this pent-up sexual energy?”
When I arch my hips again, another wave of arousal crashes over me. The force of it nearly drags me to the bottom of the ocean where breathing becomes impossible. And the funny thing is when I’m with her like this, I don’t care about propelling myself back to the surface. As long as Carina’s in my arms, who needs oxygen to survive?
“Maybe I already do.”
That’s all it takes for my movements to still and my eyes to narrow. Even the thought of another guy laying his hands on her, touching her the way I dream about, drives me fucking insane.
“Who?” I bite out. “That fucko Justin?” If that turns out to be the case, I’ll tear him limb from limb. It’ll be an absolute pleasure.
Desire clouds her eyes when I grind myself against her again.
“No, I ended it after the party.”
“Did you sleep with him? Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Good.” A ridiculous amount of relief crashes over me.
“Are you hooking up with anyone right now?”
She studies me for a long moment, and I begin to wonder if she’ll tell me that it’s none of my damn business.
Which, technically speaking, is true.
“No.” There’s a beat of silence. “You?”
I can’t stop myself from moving my hips again.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I want to tear off her clothing and drive deep inside the heat of her body. My cock is painfully hard.
Any second the tip will blow off.
“Nope.”
Her expression turns skeptical. “No recent hookups?”
How the hell can I sleep with another girl when she’s the only one who consumes me?
“It’s been a while,” I grudgingly admit. Before she can delve deeper and figure out how much power she holds where I’m concerned, I ask, “Truth or dare?”
There’s zero hesitation on her part.
“Truth.”
