Seducing The Enemy - Shayla Black Page 0,5
mine, we’re alone, and she’s so obviously consenting.
As if my hands have a mind of their own, my palms wander her curves, skating the valley of her waist, cupping her hips, clutching her thighs. Then her legs are around me. I’m pressing my unflagging erection against her damp bikini bottoms, and our bodies are moving together as one.
Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been this hot.
Whitney gropes until she circles my wrist, then lifts my hand.
Suddenly, I’m cradling the tender weight of her breast in my palm. I groan. The subversive part of me needs to know just how aroused she is, so I thumb her nipple.
She breaks our kiss to toss her head back and cries my name. “Jett…”
“Oh, princess. You feel amazing.” I squeeze her mound and close my eyes, letting go for this one moment. I haven’t done anything irrevocable to her. I can stop any time.
Right?
Under me, she shimmies and rocks. Pleasure jolts me with every move. The minute I realize we’re going through all the motions of sex with our clothes on is also the moment my hand seems to get its own ideas and shoves aside the little scrap of pink covering her breast. My mouth gets on the bandwagon and sucks the pretty dark nipple I just exposed, tonguing it until her back arches and her whimpers fill my head.
Jesus, I’m going to come.
“Princess…” I pant. “We’ve gotta stop.”
She shakes her head, trembling when my exhalations fall on her straining nipple. “We don’t. Please. I want you. I want all of you.”
Whitney doesn’t give me time to think, just wraps herself around me—arms, legs, lips—and wordlessly begs me for more.
I shake. The thought of being inside her nearly sends me over the edge.
Sure, I’ve had sex. Hurried-high-school sex. Drunken-frat-party sex. We-just-met-in-a-bar sex. Friends-with-benefits sex. Even screwing-an-ex-girlfriend’s-mother sex. But I’ve never wanted any woman the way I want Whitney.
I’m in love with her. I think I have been half the summer.
“Princess…”
But what am I saying? I know what I should do, should say.
With Whitney, none of that seems to make much difference.
“Please don’t say no.”
I filter through all my arguments. Vance, her age, what’s right and wrong… I’ve already hit those. They don’t matter to her. I’m not even sure how much they really matter to me.
“You’re a virgin,” I finally say.
“So?” She blinks up at me, looking somewhere between earnest and tearful. “I love you.”
“Oh, fuck.” I hold her tighter. In all my wildest dreams, I never imagined she was feeling what I was. “I love you, too.”
Whitney’s smile lights up my world. Then she tosses off her bikini top. “That’s all that matters. Make love to me.”
“I can’t give you anything.”
“All I want is you.” She clings to me and presses a kiss to my lips. “Please.”
“I have to go back to college in a few weeks.”
She nods. “I know. But I’ll still be waiting here for you next summer. And I get that you’re worried about Vance, but—”
“He’s my best friend. He’d kill me for touching you.”
She presses a finger over my lips. “It will be our secret.”
There’s a no perched on the tip of my tongue, but she muzzles it by lifting her hips to me and closing her eyes with a moan.
Shit. I’ve got to stop this.
Soon.
Just one more minute…
Then I lose myself in her kiss again, in the feel of her slender body undulating beneath me, in the way her gaze clings to me with love when I take her nipple in my mouth. She’s all cotton-candy sweetness and sweet-sixteen perfection. I want her so badly, every fucking part of my body hurts.
Is going behind everyone’s backs and rushing into this good for her?
No. I’ve got to stop this now.
I sigh. “Whitney—”
Behind me, the door to her bedroom slams open. “You son of a bitch. Get the fuck off my sister!”
Vance.
I jump to my feet and block his view of Whitney with my body. “It’s—”
“Not what I think?” he sneers.
No, it’s exactly what he thinks.
“Get out!” Whitney screams at her brother.
Neither of us budges. I won’t leave her alone to endure her brother’s wrath, and he won’t leave me alone with temptation.
“I would never hurt her,” I promise.
He snorts, silently admonishing me that it’s too late. “When did you start fucking her?”
I hold up both hands. “Dude, I didn’t—”
Vance silences me with a cross to the jaw.
“What are you doing?” Whitney screeches. “Stop!”
“Don’t touch my sister again.” He points a finger in my face. “Ever. I fucking trusted