from that is borderline impossible – anxiety stills webs its way through me.
“I’ve been waiting,” he goes on, “for a woman I know I want, I need, that I have to claim. I was willing to wait for the rest of my life and never find her. I was willing to die alone rather than be in another fake relationship, another mistake. But now I don’t have to. Now I’ve found you.”
I have to bite down to stop from screaming, his movements are so savage as he drags me into his lap.
I wriggle against him, glancing back at the house again even as my center tightens and tingles and my body screams at me to ride him right here. Tear off my pajama bottoms and his pants and get a proper look at his massive length this time, his manhood that was half unveiled before the alarm cut through our intimacy.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper, as he brings his face close to mine, our breath whispering over each other as illicitly as my voice sounds.
“I know,” he growls. “But you’re impossible to resist.”
Our lips come together like planets colliding, the force enough to make me squeal through our kiss. Our mouths open and our tongues dance, a dance that somehow feels familiar and yet achingly new each time.
Harder, and harder, we kiss, our teeth clicking together in our passion, our need to be somehow closer to each other.
I break it off at the last moment, before our passion flares beyond the point of no return.
I’m on my feet, panting, pacing to the window, and watching the droplets of condensation as they slowly make their way down.
“Not now,” I pant. “She could catch us.”
“I know,” he rumbles. “It’s just so hard to be in control with you, Sadie.”
“What are we going to do?” I demand, spinning on him. “Because I know what we should do, Saul. We should end this right here. We should tell each other that this night, this impossible freaking night, it never happened. We could do that, right, just agree to pretend?”
“Is that what you want, Sparkplug?” he says, standing slowly, still wearing just shorts and a T-shirt, his manhood enflamed again by our kiss, a huge and delicious-looking outline.
“No,” I admit. “I want you, okay? But I also don’t want to ruin Fiona’s life. So you see? We’re stuck.”
“I don’t have an easy answer,” he says, stalking closer to me until we’re entangled again, his arms bracing my back, my hands balled up against the firmness of his chest. “The only thing we can do is tell her.”
“No,” I say reflexively. “No freaking way.”
He tilts his head at me. “She’ll have to find out eventually.”
He’s right. You know he’s right.
“Maybe,” I mutter. “But—I don’t know, maybe we should go on a date first or something. Maybe we can convince ourselves that this is just a passing fling. You might not feel the same about me when you see me chowing down on a burger.”
This comes out in a rush, a half-joke, but a playful glint comes into Saul’s eyes and he smirks broadly.
“Oh, really, Sparkplug?” he taunts. “So that’s the game you want to play, is it?
“It’s not a game.” I pout, knowing how much he loves it, delighted when his expression twists in that savage lust-filled way. “It’s a plan, a plan to make you hate me. And I think it’s going to be very effective.”
“If you’re that confident, let’s make a wager,” he growls, hands smoothing up my back, and then up to my neck and through my hair, tickling, possessing.
“Yeah? What’ve you got in mind?” I say feistily, stunned at how quickly we can sink into banter after all the seriousness.
It’s just so much easier sometimes to turn life into a game.
Why? Because then you don’t have to feel guilty?
“If we go on a date and discover that we’re not compatible, which, for the damn record, has a zero percent chance of happening … but let’s just pretend it could so that when you lose, I get what I want.”
“And what do you want?” I whisper.
“I’m getting to that,” he smirks. “So if you win, we’ll agree that it wasn’t meant to be and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Our eyes meet and we both burst out laughing, even though we both make an effort to keep the laughter quiet. We both know how absurd this proposition is, the idea that Saul and I would be put off by each other is