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“Come here,” he says, and in two steps I collapse back down next to him.
“I feel surprisingly okay,” I say, and he laughs. I turn my head on the pillow. “Turns out, youarea magician.”
He winces and closes his eyes. “We should compare notes on drugs some time.” Rolling into me, he presses his nose into my throat, inhaling as he did in the car. His erection is a solid presence at my hip.
“How about we do that thing you suggested on the drive here where you watch me getting myself off.”
I grin at the ceiling. “I’m down for that.”
A groan rumbles up from deep in his body as he nuzzles at the red fabric at the side of my neck.
“This is the hottest dress I’ve ever seen. Every time I see you, I get hard.”
I’m dissolving into the mattress. He props himself up on one hand and studies my hair, then down over my eyes and nose, and I lick my lips as he leans in so close that we’re sharing breath, his gray eyes swimming like oil on a pool. Encircling my wrist with his fingers, he brushes my skin, his thumb rhythmically pressing into my palm.
“Anticipation,” he murmurs, his mouth curling up. “Taking it slow is my favorite thing.”
And with that statement, my body freezes.What?This impulsive, thrill-seeking guy? He likes to take itslow? Will he hold off and hold off? Holdmeoff? I can almost taste it. I shift my hips, and he catches my top lip gently with his teeth, oil-eyes never leaving mine, and I want to know how he tastes, how soft his lips are. But I realize now that Fabian won’t push.
“What do you like, Kate?” he says, releasing my lip and running his tongue over it, and I open my mouth chasing his kiss, but he shifts back ever so slightly. His eyelashes are long and spaced out, a small black dot sits in the colored part of his right eye, faint laughter lines fanning out from the far corner. The heat between my legs tightens into an ache.
“I think with you, I’d like everything,” I say, reaching up to stroke his eyebrow, as slowly as I can, and it moves under my finger as he frowns. My nail snags on a piercing hole and I press on it.
“I have a number of piercings I’ve got bored with. You can discover them all,” he says, leaning in to run his nose along the side of mine, lips brushing my face, the warmth of his breath drifting over the soft down of my cheek as strands of thread starts to wrap around us, pulling us ever closer. I nip his lower lip, body full of lightness and air. Who knew I could be this forward?
And then his mouth is on mine. I expect it to be brutal and aroused, but despite the hardness of his erection pressing into my thigh, his kiss is achingly soft. His lips are smooth and tart, the sharp tang of whiskey and the chemicals of whatever we took earlier. He brushes over in a broad sweep, pushing my bottom lip down, nibbling across the tender length of it, playing with the corner, growling. I realize that rumbling sounds have been coming from his body ever since he curled into me, and I want to growl right along with him. My mouth is open now, seeking more contact, and he licks my upper lip, then my lower one. He does this over and over again, never pushing forward or pulling back, our bodies pressing together as the ache inside gets worse and worse.
“Beautiful, Kate,” he groans. “Oh fuck!”
And he rubs himself against my hip, but the slow contained kisses don’t change. He’s such a mass of contradictions, and I smile against his mouth.
Propping himself up on his arms, he blows out a long breath, biceps popping as he smiles down at me, and I reach up to loosen the band in his hair. It flops around his face as I run my hands into the silk of it. Then he pushes up to sit, pulling me up too.
“We need to get ready for this wedding.” It comes out as a hot growl. “No time to do this now.”
I clear my throat, staring at the bedcover in a haze. “We don’t have to go.”
“I’m trying to be good here, Kate.”
“I’m not sure I want you to be good,” I mutter.
13
Fabian
Idrum my fingers on the door handle of the car, staring out the window at the Taconic State Parkway, full of finance drones returning to the city from their second homes upstate.
“Bored?” Kate says, her lips curling up.
Busted. We’re only fifteen minutes into the journey.
I wave my hand around the interior. “I’m not used to sitting still unless I’m at a computer.”
Despite all the nonsense of the last two days, nothing further has happened between Kate and me. We’ve curled around each other for two nights, drunk and ill, and shit, I didn’t want to take advantage of her when she was wasted, notwithstanding the hot make-out session right before the wedding. The second night was not much better than the night we arrived, except I avoided Javier and her parents—surprisingly easy at a large function. And I’ve watched her body move under a nightgown, under shimmery slinky dresses, and now jeans and a sweatshirt. I roll my shoulders.
“Why are you staring at me?” she says, smiling.
“Why did you invite me to the wedding again?”
