Unraveling You 02 Raveling You

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Book: Unraveling You 02 Raveling You by Jessica Sorensen Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Sorensen
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
stuck to the fabric. “She must have just bought them.”
     
    “Wow, they must have been preparing for this.” She tears the tag off, drops it into the bag, and tosses the empty bag onto the backseat. When she turns around, she starts undoing the zipper of her jeans.
     
    “What are you doing?” My panicked gaze darts between her jeans and her face.
     
    “Getting changed.” She unfastens the zipper, lifts her hips, and then tugs down on her pants.
     
    “Right here in the car?” With a lot of effort, I manage to keep my eyes on her face, even though my instincts beg to look downward.
     
    She shrugs, shimmying her hips out of her jeans. “It’s just underwear, no biggie. I’m even wearing my boy-cut panties that cover up more than my swimsuit.”
     
    Her pants are so far down I can see those black boy-cut panties along with her upper thighs. Her skin looks so soft, so touchable. My hands quiver just thinking about brushing my fingers over her legs.
     
    She suddenly halts her torturously slow strip tease. “Wait, am I crossing one of those boundaries again? I never know sometimes.”
     
    To Lyric, changing in front of her best friend is probably on the same level as wearing a swimsuit, completely innocent. But her swimsuit doesn’t have lace at the bottom and a tiny pink bow on the front.
     
    God, I just want to touch her.
     
    My breathing accelerates with my thoughts as I desperately try not to panic.
     
    Lyric must sense my anxiety because she begins pulling her jeans back up.
     
    “Do you want to go find a bathroom at a gas station so I can change?” she asks, inching the fabric back over her thighs.
     
    There are probably locker rooms in the building where the class is. I should tell her that or just take her to a gas station. But even in the midst of my semi-panicking, I’m so turned on I can’t bring myself to utter those words.
     
    “No, you’re fine.” I rip my eyes off her body and dig my phone from my pocket to busy myself with something other than gawking at her. “Unless you really want me to.”
     
    “I’m good changing wherever,” she replies hesitantly. “And you don’t have to look at your phone if you don’t want to. I’m comfortable with you, Ayden.”
     
    I believe her. She’s made it pretty clear that she wants to be with me as more than a friend. Right now, I wish I wasn’t completely fucked-up so I could have her that way.
     
    Have her on the backseat.
     
    Touching her everywhere.
     
    Her warm body underneath me.
     
    Flesh to flesh of blazing heat.
     
    Drowning me in warmth.
     
    Taste it.
     
    Drown in it.
     
    Beg for more.
     
    Kiss her like my life depends on it.
     
    Like the blood running through my veins.
     
    Kiss her until the darkness fades.
     
    Kiss her, kiss the hurt away.
     
    “Ayden?”
     
    My attention drifts back to Lyric. Fuck . She doesn’t have a shirt on. Her bra has the same lacy trim as her panties do, with a pink bow right between her breasts.
     
    “Are you okay?” she asks, fiddling with the bow in the center “You’ve been zoning out.”
     
    “Huh?” I blink away from her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
     
    “Are you sure?” She bites the tag off the shirt. “You seem really out of it. And I’m worried the visit with the police is,” she lifts her arms to pull her shirt over her head, “messing with your head.”
     
    The visit with the police…
     
    Where stuff happened…
     
    Where I was reminded of my past…
     
    My head becomes foggy...
     
    She hasn’t pulled the shirt over her bra, still struggling to get the super tight fabric over her chest.
     
    “The police visit did mess with my head a little, but that’s not what’s making me so out of it right now. It’s just … I mean, it’s you … and … you changing in my car in front of me.” My cheeks warm.
     
    Her lips form an O as her gaze drops to the shirt stuck on top of her breasts.
     
    “It’s really distracting,” I add, feeling like an

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