my friend. I’m so fucking conflicted. Is that wrong?”
I wind my hands around his neck and whisper, “No, I don’t think it’s wrong. It feels so right.”
He smells divine, and I inhale that citrusy scent unique to Blaine. “I want to make love to you.”
I nod and trail behind him. I can’t believe this is actually happening. Like every single schoolgirl fantasy I ever had ended right here.
Me.
Blaine.
A bedroom.
The shades are pulled in his master suite, which suits me just fine. I don’t think I could handle bright light shining on this moment. At least not yet. He lifts me up and settles me on the down comforter. I lean back and rest on my elbows as I stare at him.
He sits next to me, suddenly unsure of himself. I get it. This is a big deal. The biggest.
He touches my forehead. “Are you okay? Too hot; too cold?”
I shake my head and reach for him. “Just right.”
He grips my waist and pulls me toward him, capturing my lips with his and working my shirt up and over my head between kisses. I’m so drugged up on emotion I don’t really even realize I’m only in my plain underwear until the cool air caresses my hot skin. Blaine runs a hand up my bare leg and gooseflesh spreads in his wake.
I wrap my fingers around the back of his head and bring him down to my lips again. It’s like I don’t want to be separated from him for even a second—like if I let go, he might evaporate and we’ll go back in time to being Blaine and Cora.
Friends until the end.
When we could be so much more.
He moans low in his throat. “God, Cora. I want you so much. You can’t even know.”
A small smile breaks free. “Why don’t you tell me?”
Because I’ve been waiting a lifetime to hear the words.
“I can’t think of a moment that I haven’t wanted you.” It’s not the words, but the way they touch every part of me that matters.
“Blaine…” I say his name like an oath and a prayer. “Take your clothes off too. I want to see you. All of you.”
He makes quick work of his jeans, Henley, and boxer briefs until my eyes widen into saucers. I almost chuckle because I think of that old saying about how things look even better in real life than they do in photos. And in the case of Blaine’s assets, that statement is right as rain.
He chuckles low. “I take it you like what you see.”
I nod but can’t stop from blushing. “Come here and let me touch you.”
“No way. Not until you’re out of your panties.” He kisses his way down my belly, and I arch into his mouth, twining my hands through his thick hair. I relish all the new sensations, cataloging them to analyze later. I’m going to have to decide if the reality lives up to the fantasy and so far, it does.
He kisses the top of my bikini panties and then slides them off my hips and down my legs to join the clothing party on the floor.
A thought pierces the mood, but I have to ask him. “Blaine, do you have protection?”
The moment the question leaves my lips, I flop back on the bed and heave a sigh. Of course, he has protection. He’s one of the Caribou’s major man whores, and I’m not the first woman who’s been in this bedroom—in this bed.
As I sweep the thoughts of him with floozies—with Rachel—from my mind, I steel my spine. Maybe I’ll be the last. That’s what I want, and I hope it’s what he wants.
He leaves me only long enough to fish through the dresser drawer and pull it out. As he suits up, I let my eyes flutter closed and savor the deliciousness of the moment. The man I’ve wanted for every waking minute since I found out what wanted truly meant is about to become connected to me in the most intimate way possible.
Before I can think about it, he hovers over me, taking possession of my mouth again while his hands roam my body. The head of Blaine’s cock rests against my slick opening. “Is this okay?” he asks. At my answering nod, he pushes inside. A strangled moan escapes his lips. But I don’t make a sound.
It hurts. It burns like hell.
His eyes are closed, and he doesn’t seem to notice as I clutch his muscled back in a death grip. “God,