opens the door, I say good night and make a beeline for the stairs without looking back.
I’m two steps shy from it when Troy circles his free arm around my waist and pins my back to his chiseled chest. “Don’t go,” he whispers in my ear.
Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I melt against his body. I close my eyes for a second and allow myself to get lost in the feel of his arm keeping me in place, on the way his warm breath turns my already overheated skin into molten lava.
“I don’t want to go, but….”
He turns me around, keeping me trapped against him. “I didn’t mean to get so angry.”
“You had every right to. I broke your trust.”
“You didn’t break my trust, not exactly. You didn’t hide in that bathroom on purpose with the intent of spying on me.”
“No. It was a matter of too many beers and a too small bladder.”
He chuckles. “I can’t stay mad at you when you say stuff like that, babe.”
His eyes drop to my lips and stay there. He doesn’t make a move, maybe because he’s still gung ho on not losing the bet. I couldn’t care less about that anymore.
“You win,” I breathe.
He brings his eyes back to mine. “What?”
Oh for fuck’s sake. Lack of sex has clearly addled his brain.
I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him hard and deep, leaving no room for doubt.
This is my surrender.
34
CHARLIE
Troy responds in kind, matching my passionate tempo stroke for stroke. I don’t know what to do with my hands; I want to touch him everywhere, but I also want him to touch me everywhere.
The arm in a sling is a hindrance. I reach behind his neck and open the clasp. His response is a deep groan that I can feel all the way down to my core. He makes quick use of both hands; they disappear underneath my skirt to grab my ass. I’d jump in his arms if it weren’t for his injured shoulder. I’m sure he could lift me, but I won’t be responsible for prolonging his recovery.
I hold his face between my hands and tilt my head to the side, trying to deepen the kiss. His tongue darts into my mouth, fiery, possessive, and then he does what I wanted him to do all along—he picks me up, lifting me off the floor. I wrap my legs around his hips, hooking them at the ankles and trying my best to be as light as a feather—if that’s even possible. I half expect Troy to bring me to the couch. He did say he was going to bend me over it and fuck me into oblivion. But instead, he veers for the stairs, going up two at a time.
Our mouths stay fused together, trying to compensate for all the days we denied ourselves the taste of the other. We did make out, but always with restraint, never with this mind-numbing abandon.
Troy takes me to his room, even though my bedroom is closer to the stairs. The door is semi shut, so he kicks it open with a bang before almost running across the room, aiming for his king-size bed.
He tries to break the kiss to put me down at the edge of the mattress, but I’m not having any of it. We fall together on the bed, and our limbs quickly twist together. We stay in that lovers’ embrace for a while, exploring each other with our tongues and hands. With each passing second, my body burns for him brighter, and the overwhelming yearning is agony, but the sweetest kind. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but eventually, he slides off me, keeping one leg firmly between mine.
“What’s wrong?” I ask against his mouth.
“Tired of getting poked by your belt.”
Oh shit. The spikes. I completely forgot about them.
“Sorry.”
I have to move away from his mouth to rotate the belt until I find the clasp, but Troy is intent on distracting me. His mouth strays to my neck, peppering my skin with delicious open-mouthed kisses that leave me panting like I’ve just run a marathon.
I finally locate the damn clasp and manage to pull my belt off just in time before Troy rolls over me again and nestles between my legs. His erection pushes against me through our layers of clothing, and now I want nothing more than to see them gone. I reach for the back of his shirt and yank the fabric until he finally