His hand hovers in the small of my back as we climb the stairs.
My heart is pounding a mile a minute. I’ve wanted this for months now. Touched myself to a dozen different versions of how this might happen, and none of them felt like this. Not even kissing in New York felt like this, because that was a response. I’d goaded him into that.
This is different.
Terrifying. Exciting. Confusing.
Riddled with doubt.
In all my fantasies about my sister’s bodyguard taking my virginity, I knew he wanted me. But the truth is, Scott’s had zero problem keeping me at arm’s length despite the chemistry between us.
So he thinks I’m pretty.
So he can’t stop looking at my legs.
He’s not a walking dick—part of why I’m attracted to him, I guess. But that control works against me, too.
If he says good night at the door, I’m going to need some serious ice cream therapy.
If he says good night at the door, I’m going to have to admit that I am a silly girl with a silly crush. And I don’t want that to be true.
So when we get to my apartment, I slide the key into the lock, but I don’t turn the handle. Not yet.
I want him to make the first move tonight.
A slow, rough exhale behind me kickstarts my heart. Then I feel his fingers on the nape of my neck. “You want me to come in?”
“I think you should either come in…” I say slowly, my pulse pounding so hard it hurts. “And if you don’t…maybe you should stay gone.”
“You think I can stay gone?”
“That’s not my problem if you can’t.”
“Coming in is a bad idea.”
“So is stringing each other along.”
“That was never my intention.”
“What was your intention?”
“You’re young—”
“Not that young.”
“Innocent.”
“Not that innocent.”
“Maybe I want you to be.” His breath brushes against my ear as he presses his front to my back. “Because if you aren’t innocent, then you’re just as complicit in being a tease as I am.”
My pulse pounds in my neck. “What?”
“You heard me.” He slides one arm around my waist, banding me to him tightly. The other brushes my hair out of the way and he nips my neck. “Open the door, Ali.”
This is happening.
I turn the handle and we shove inside. My backpack tumbles to the floor as Scott’s arms tighten around me.
“I’m not teasing you,” I whisper in the quiet. “I promise. We can do anything you want.”
“Jesus,” he rasps.
“Nobody needs to know, right?” I press back against him, wanting to feel him grind his erection against my bottom.
His breath slides hot and fast against my neck as he holds me tight. “That’s right. This is our secret.”
I spread my legs, rocking my ass back against his thighs. I wish I was taller. Maybe if I’d worn f*ck
-me boots, my legs would be long enough to get my cheeks at the right height to roll against his cock. But I can feel it, a heavy, hot brand in the small of my back, and just as telling, his hand presses firm against my belly.
I love the wrap of his arm around me. He’s big, all of his muscles solid and bulging, but there’s more to it than that—when Scott’s holding me, I feel safe. Like he’d never let anything happen to me.
Nothing bad, anyway.
Would he ever let me fly? Let me be myself?
Let me be his?
“What do you want, Ali?” The rough, whispered nickname that only he uses makes me whimper. I want him to call me that when he’s buried deep inside me. When he’s lost control and taken me, hard and fast, and my name spills out of him because he just can’t help it.
“I want to have sex with you.”
He laughs in my ear. “Not going to happen.”
“Who’s the tease now?”
“We’re not going to have sex.”
“Then go away.” I don’t mean it, but what did he think I’d want?
“But I can make you come.” The promise pulses through me like pure electricity. It burns so bright it hurts. “You want to come on my fingers, Ali?”
I nod.
“Turn around.”
Legs shaking, I peel myself out from the curve of his warm, hard body and turn on the spot. He cups my face in his hands and crushes his mouth against mine, his kiss hungry and hard. He kisses me until we’re both breathing hard and my lips are swollen, and then he licks his way out of my mouth, making me moan at the loss of his taste.
“Shh… I’m going to make you feel so good. Back against the wall. Hands…good girl. No touching me.”
“Why not?” I want to touch him. I want to hold on to his arms and feel his biceps work as he pistons his fingers in and out of me. I want to run my fingertips over his mouth and feel his breath, hot and desperate, as he watches me come. And more than anything, I want to squeeze his cock and make him wish he didn’t have this ridiculous boundary between us.
Okay, so I know why not.