to be inside you, Charm. I want to be deep in your pussy. Tell me to go, say the words, because I can’t leave until you do. I can’t.” His eyes are dark, his chest still, as if he’s barely in control. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Air whooshes out of me.
I want his heart, yet he doesn’t want me like that.
Still, we both want to lose ourselves in this, whatever it is. It’s the language we both know.
For this moment, it’s enough. I know I’ll regret it later, but rational thought left me the moment he sang “In Your Eyes” to me.
“Stay.”
17
“You sure?” he asks quietly. We study each other, reserve on his face, almost fear.
I nod my head.
His voice is gruff. “I’m going to go sit on the couch. You’re going to put on a skirt and find me. You feel me?”
I know exactly what he’s referring to—our sexting convo—and it makes my chest rise in anticipation.
His gaze burns. “Wear some of your big heels.”
He turns and stalks out of my bedroom, and I stand there for a moment. This isn’t like before when we had sex, where I felt a semblance of control. No, this is him being alpha, his ideas, and it doesn’t freak me out like it should. In fact, I run to my dresser and yank out fresh lacy underwear and a black mini skirt that’s too short for public wear. I adjust my bra again, pushing the girls up, grab some four-inch red heels, and shove my feet in them.
I walk into the den, and he’s sprawled back on the couch, fully dressed. He’s hooked my phone up to a speaker and “With or Without You” blares, the lyrics reminding me of the pain of wanting him.
A quick glance tells me the window blinds are open with a clear view of the house across the street plus the parking spot where his truck is.
His muscled legs are apart, blue eyes running over me, lingering on the shoes before coming back to my face. “Hey.”
Just that one husky word and I’m wet, juices already pooling.
“How can you be hard again?” I flick my eyes over the tent in his jeans.
“I’m twenty-one and horny as fuck.” He rubs his crotch and squeezes. “Been missing you.”
I let out a shaky breath. God, what are we doing?
“Get in my lap.”
He takes my hand and pulls me closer.
I suck in a breath and situate myself as I straddle him, my hands going in his hair. Wavy and dark, it’s soft and silky under my touch, and I tug, playing with the highlighted parts, scraping my nails over his scalp.
He closes his eyes and grabs the sides of my legs, moving slowly up my thighs, going under the skirt. He grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin. He looks down at the tops of my thighs, the hint of lace peeking out from my skirt. “I can see why you like this. Grind on me, baby.”
“As long as you know that when you say baby, you really mean Charisma Rossi, badass nerd girl.”
His hand clutches my hip, squeezing. “Wasn’t thinking about anybody but you, city girl.”
Sliding up and down against his jeans, I start nice and slow, my forehead pressed to him, my hands moving to his shoulders, kneading the muscles there, relearning the planes of him. We always moved so fast before.
The sound of a car makes us pause, the motor loud in the quiet room. We look at each other, releasing twin sighs of relief when it passes by.
He shifts up to give me more friction, and I gasp at the sensation from the rough fabric of his jeans, the button at the top pressing against my wet panties. I rotate my hips, sinking into him, massaging my clit against his pants. I moan.
His fingers dig into my ass. He’s going to leave bruises, and I don’t care.
I kiss his neck, breathing him in. My tongue and teeth bite at him, and he clutches me to his body, his hands moving to caress the bare skin on my back. I suck hard, memorizing the taste of him, carving it into my memory.
“Baby, baby, you got me crazy…” He’s moved his hands, cupping my breasts through my bra, paying extra attention to my piercing.
“You like that ring?” I say in his ear.
His eyes hold mine. “You know I do. Does it feel good when I touch it?”
“Yes.” I swivel my hips against his jeans, grinding. “You