let go, holding onto the couch so I don’t hold he r .
She drags her fingernails lightly across my chest, tracing the ridges of my pecs then lower, lower, lower to the waistband of my jeans. “It is what I want. Please…don’t stop.” And there it is again—that pleading tone in her voice—and goddamn if it doesn’t make me want to touch her more. “Please, Krister.”
I focus on her jawline, the way her creamy skin glows under the dim light. “It won’t help, escaping into the arms of someone you don’t know. It won’t take whatever you’re running from away.” God knows it doesn’t even work with someone I do know, like Jess.
She shifts her hips against mine, the hungry look that says she’s throbbing inside just as much as I am lingering in her imploring eyes. “I’m not running. Now will you pretty please with a freaking cherry on top put your hands on me?” Legs lock around my waist, and the heat from her skin and smoothness of her hands traveling up my back are enough to toss any gentlemanly cell in my body out the window. For the next half hour, anyway.
Her mouth meets mine halfway, and she darts her tongue past my lips instantly, grinding her hips into me in a rhythm that is much too easy to match. Her neck arches back as I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, a heavy sigh echoing in the small room.
“Keep going,” she whispers into my mouth.
Fuck. Me. I might go to hell for this, but I am drowning in the sweet taste of her and completely unable to stop.
No.
I can’t be a total douche. I won’t be that guy. “I’m not sleeping with you,” I say in between kissing her jawline and palming her breast.
Her eyes open for a moment, skimming from my mouth to my eyes then back again. And then she nods. “Okay, no sex. But…”
“Yeah, but…” My hand slipping beneath her skirt finishes the sentence, and by the brightness in her eyes, she approves. Muscles in her legs tense as I drag my fingertips along the inside of her thigh up and up until they find the silky, wet-hot triangle.
Dear Jesus.
My mouth waters with the craving to taste her, to run my tongue under the line of her panties until she screams against my mouth…
Instead, I flick my tongue over her nipple, and her hips arch in my hands, desperate for release. Underwear aside, I dip my finger along the folds of her wet clit, drawing a long, slow groan from her.
No sex. No sex. No sex.
Her hips pulse against my fingers, begging me to enter her, take her deeper. She closes her eyes, and I use the moment to kiss her ear, her jaw, and chin as I stroke back and forth. I draw out the moment for as long as I can, the words no sex on repeat until she spreads her legs wider, a clear sign she’s ready for more.
And then I slip one finger inside her, biting away the overpowering urge to reach for my wallet and take her fully and completely right now. God knows I could lose myself in her scent, her touch, her wild auburn waves. I add another finger and watch the exquisiteness of her body spiraling tighter and tighter, her muscles tensing. Of all the girls…I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Cam on fire. I run my cheek along hers and rest my head there. Her nails dig into my skin again, and her hips grind my hand, seeking her release that is so close.
She moans, and I press kisses to her cheek, breathing in her aroused scent. Then I gently pressure her clit with my thumb, pinch her nipple, and watch her explode. Long enough to see her through her climax, little tremors contracting every muscle in her body as she clutches my arms, I kiss her gently and hold true to my words. No sex.
Awkward as it is, I leave shortly after, claiming a test in the morning. No numbers exchanged. No kiss goodnight. Just the realization that this girl—the one with the pleading brown eyes and confident yet unconfident words—used me. And I will never see her again.
Chapter Seven
I’m at school Thursday morning fifteen minutes early because
She drags her fingernails lightly across my chest, tracing the ridges of my pecs then lower, lower, lower to the waistband of my jeans. “It is what I want. Please…don’t stop.” And there it is again—that pleading tone in her voice—and goddamn if it doesn’t make me want to touch her more. “Please, Krister.”
I focus on her jawline, the way her creamy skin glows under the dim light. “It won’t help, escaping into the arms of someone you don’t know. It won’t take whatever you’re running from away.” God knows it doesn’t even work with someone I do know, like Jess.
She shifts her hips against mine, the hungry look that says she’s throbbing inside just as much as I am lingering in her imploring eyes. “I’m not running. Now will you pretty please with a freaking cherry on top put your hands on me?” Legs lock around my waist, and the heat from her skin and smoothness of her hands traveling up my back are enough to toss any gentlemanly cell in my body out the window. For the next half hour, anyway.
Her mouth meets mine halfway, and she darts her tongue past my lips instantly, grinding her hips into me in a rhythm that is much too easy to match. Her neck arches back as I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, a heavy sigh echoing in the small room.
“Keep going,” she whispers into my mouth.
Fuck. Me. I might go to hell for this, but I am drowning in the sweet taste of her and completely unable to stop.
No.
I can’t be a total douche. I won’t be that guy. “I’m not sleeping with you,” I say in between kissing her jawline and palming her breast.
Her eyes open for a moment, skimming from my mouth to my eyes then back again. And then she nods. “Okay, no sex. But…”
“Yeah, but…” My hand slipping beneath her skirt finishes the sentence, and by the brightness in her eyes, she approves. Muscles in her legs tense as I drag my fingertips along the inside of her thigh up and up until they find the silky, wet-hot triangle.
Dear Jesus.
My mouth waters with the craving to taste her, to run my tongue under the line of her panties until she screams against my mouth…
Instead, I flick my tongue over her nipple, and her hips arch in my hands, desperate for release. Underwear aside, I dip my finger along the folds of her wet clit, drawing a long, slow groan from her.
No sex. No sex. No sex.
Her hips pulse against my fingers, begging me to enter her, take her deeper. She closes her eyes, and I use the moment to kiss her ear, her jaw, and chin as I stroke back and forth. I draw out the moment for as long as I can, the words no sex on repeat until she spreads her legs wider, a clear sign she’s ready for more.
And then I slip one finger inside her, biting away the overpowering urge to reach for my wallet and take her fully and completely right now. God knows I could lose myself in her scent, her touch, her wild auburn waves. I add another finger and watch the exquisiteness of her body spiraling tighter and tighter, her muscles tensing. Of all the girls…I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Cam on fire. I run my cheek along hers and rest my head there. Her nails dig into my skin again, and her hips grind my hand, seeking her release that is so close.
She moans, and I press kisses to her cheek, breathing in her aroused scent. Then I gently pressure her clit with my thumb, pinch her nipple, and watch her explode. Long enough to see her through her climax, little tremors contracting every muscle in her body as she clutches my arms, I kiss her gently and hold true to my words. No sex.
Awkward as it is, I leave shortly after, claiming a test in the morning. No numbers exchanged. No kiss goodnight. Just the realization that this girl—the one with the pleading brown eyes and confident yet unconfident words—used me. And I will never see her again.
Chapter Seven
I’m at school Thursday morning fifteen minutes early because
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