to this shit. Every second that she’s in here is a second I’m losing restraint.
I squeeze my cock until it fucking hurts, but it won’t go down. When I hear her shifting around—getting off the bed, I bet—I cast a glance over my shoulder. She’s not getting up, though. I find her pulling her coat off her shoulders. I turn fully around. She just asked me if I’m trying to tell her what she needs. “I’m trying to tell you if you get that thing all the way off, you’re going to be tempting fucking fate.”
“Oh…so you don’t like me in my sweater?” She runs her hand along the neckline of the thick, cream garment, and I grit my molars.
“The sweater is fine.”
“Good, because it’s feeling very hot in here.” She lifts the bottom of the sweater, acting like she’s scratching an itch near her hip, and goddammit, I can read her face. She’s got that fuck-me face I still remember. I’m all too happy to oblige.
“It was surprisingly tiring, this last half hour.” She lies on her back, her hair fanned out around her shoulders as she blinks up at the ceiling. “Anyway, I’m so hot now. I need to cool down. Just a second, and I’ll be on my way.”
She arches her back, gathering her hair in one hand, spreading it upward, toward my pillows. “Pardon the lack of bra.” She glances down. “When I went out, I didn’t think I’d take my coat off. Didn’t figure I’d see someone I knew here, of all places. It’s practically the wilderness.”
I grip my dick, squeezing hard—almost as hard as I’m clenching my fucking molars.
“Anyway, what are you doing up here?” She rolls over onto her side, showing off the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts under the sweater.
“Get up off the bed, Elise.”
She props her flushed cheek in her palm. “You said you bought it from my father, this place? Unless you stole it from him.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You do steal things…right?” She lifts her chin, and I can tell she’s goading me.
“What do you want?”
“I thought that’s yours to figure out. You just tried to get me to go. Is that what I want?”
“Is it?” My heart’s beating too hard.
“That’s not what I said I wanted.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to lie down with me.”
“Why?” The word sounds choked.
She pushes up on one arm, crossing her ankles in those plaid pants, and she looks at me with what can only be some sort of fury. “Because, Luca. You twisted me up. And I’m still twisted. So I want to lie down with you. You’re the same person, aren’t you? Technically?” Her tongue darts out over her lip as her brows pinch. “So I need you to lie beside me, let me…hug you.” Her voice dips so soft I can barely hear it, but I see her swallow as she casts her gaze down to the bedding. “Let me see if it still feels right.” Her eyes pin mine. “What do you think? Can you do that for me?”
What the fuck.
I spend a second standing there, trying to breathe…I guess delaying the inevitable. Because I’m going to lie down beside her. I don’t even have a goddamn choice.
I feel like I’m floating as I cover the floor space between us. I get on the bed slowly, trying not to look at her face as I stretch out on my back…then tuck an arm behind my head. When I feel her pull the blankets over me, I shut my eyes and try to think of anything but my dick.
I can smell her, too—a sort of sweetness, like shampoo or product. It’s not the perfume she used to wear—perfume I once searched for at all the counters in Saks—but she smells good, and I can feel her as she settles in beside me. I can feel her scooting closer. Then her head is on my arm, and my chest feels like it’s locked.
Fuck. Shit. Motherfuck me.
I don’t mean to turn away. I just…do. First my head, and then my hips shift. Then I’m lying on my side, baring my scarred back. I feel her shift—scooting closer or getting out of the bed?—and put a hand over my eyes. I can’t look.
“You should face me.”
I get a deep breath, let it slowly out. Turns out, the timing matters. Took me a long time to learn that how you breathe can make you feel different