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“I said I was hard-headed,” I reply, trying and failing to keep my face straight as she moves above me. She tips her head back, laughing, and the sight makes me want to do all sorts of things.
“That’s not a strength, that’s a character defect.”
“I’m not sure whether I should be insulted or not,” I say honestly, and she smirks down at me. “Analytical,” I finally answer. Without waiting for my explanation, she hums.
“Not a one relationship building,” she says in a musing voice, and I feel myself sit up slightly, nearly knocking her off balance. I grab her hips, and her eyes go glazed, just momentarily, as she stares at me. “What?” she asks, and puts her hands on my chest, feeling my heartbeat thumping. “You think just because I make pretty things for a living, I’ve never taken a strengths test?” Piper gives a sly smile as I splutter.
“What? No. I just didn’t realize-
“You forget,” she interrupts, and holds onto my shoulders as she leans back to look at me. “While you were Mr. Class VP, I was winning my own scholarships and competitions.” The proud look on her face tells me that she’s just teasing, that she’s not offended by my surprise, but I still have to ask.
“So what are yours? Your strengths, I mean,” I clarify when she looks confused.
“I’m mostly strategic thinking and relationship building,” she says plainly, and then rocks her hips again. I fight the hiss at the back of my throat as my fingers dig into her, just barely skimming the skin above her waistband. Then, she touches my nose to hers. “But that’s to discuss another day.” Before I can protest, her lips are back on mine, and this time, it’s not a delicate, light kiss.
Her hands grip both sides of my neck where it connects to my shoulders as my hands hold her firmly in place. Her tongue darts out, just slightly, and that’s all it takes for me to lose the last of my self control.
Still holding her hips, I rock against her, and she moans as she wraps her arms around my neck. I shift myself further up against the headboard, and don’t let my mouth leave hers as everything goes quiet around me, my blood pumping too loud to allow for anything else. Her kiss is furious and I feel the same emotions pouring out of me again, holding her close.
The way I want this woman is consuming. What started out as an ember that day in the office at The Pine became a smoldering flame as we got to know each other. Nearly losing her was like throwing gasoline on the fire.
I feel her hips move in circles above me, and when I meet her rhythm, only a few flimsy layers of fabric separating us, she hums against my lips, nails working into my scalp.
It tells me what I need to know.
She wants this too.
There’s a natural break, and before I get too carried away, I pull back, panting.
“Piper,” I groan, and she smiles, ducking her head back in. “Piper,” I repeat, and hold the side of her face, my thumb finding her pink cheek. I hear a gurgle, and think for a second that it’s Bex, somewhere on the floor, before I hear it again and realize it’s coming from Piper’s stomach. She flushes, face redder than it already is, and her eyes widen before she grimaces.
“Hold that thought,” she says, and gives me a last quick kiss before climbing off of me and heading toward what I assume is an en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind her. I sit back against the headboard, closing my eyes and trying to steady my breathing.
Did that just happen? Or was I just having a really, really good dream.
“You’re lucky it’s just me,” a voice says, and my eyes snap open to see Carla standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised. Her blonde hair is pulled into a slick bun, the first time I’ve seen her in professional clothes. “And not Penny or Alex, or God forbid one of the guys.” She gives me a pointed nod, and then glances down. I follow her gaze.
“Fuck.” I scramble to pull blankets up over my lap. She laughs, light and amused, before nodding toward the bathroom door.
“She ok?” I don’t know how to answer her, but she continues without waiting. “Hottest girls have the worst stomach problems,” she supplies, before glancing around the room. “She eat?” I nod. “Good, that’s a start.” She twirls her keys around her finger as running water sounds, followed by the door opening. Piper looks straight at me, but when she realizes I’m looking elsewhere, she sees Carla and nearly jumps.
“Jesus,” she says, putting a hand to her chest. “Give a girl a little warning next time.” I cross my legs, trying to will my boner to subside so I can get up and interact like a normal person.
“I’ll be in my bedroom,” Carla announces, and then gives me a death glare. “Don’t be too loud.”
“You say that like I’m the loud one in this group,” I retort, gesturing among the three of us.
“I don’t know,” Piper says quizzically, and sits on the bed near my feet. I can still hear her stomach gurgling. “Gentleman in the streets-"
“Freak in the sheets,” Carla finishes, and then walks around the corner without so much as a glance back. I shake my head, trying to pretend like she didn’t just say that, and Piper laughs, falling back across the bed and putting her hands on her stomach.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she says, turning her head to look at me, “but I’ve got some fierce cramps going on and it’s a bit of a mood killer.” Piper pauses, closing her eyes and shaking her head like she regrets the overshare of information. I just find it endearing, but that may be my receding boner speaking for me. “I think we might have to press pause on whatever that was.” She waves her hand between us, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. I smirk at her.
“I was just about to suggest a pause also.” She narrows her eyes. “Not permanently,” I add quickly, because I can see her mind whirring, plain as day on her face - so opposite from my own functions. “I don’t want to hurt that pretty head of yours.” I lean forward, and give her arm a playful tug toward me. She sighs in resignation, and then works her way up the bed, crawling under the covers and sitting up next to me. Then, playfully, she pulls the blankets up, inspecting the pitched tent still waiting below, and she lets out a snort of laughter.
“Stop it,” I mutter, and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into my chest and scooting down into the bed. With another deep sigh, she settles her head in the crook of my arm and chest, and my hand finds her hair - soft and wild from our activities. “Besides,” I say, and then kiss the top of her head, “I don’t want to rush this. I don’t want to fuck this up.” Again, I add silently to myself.
“Me either,” she says quietly, and re-starts the movie. I sit there, holding her, my brain racing.
