“Spread your legs,” I demand, and she does so automatically. I step in between them, my hand still braced on the dryer, fingers brushing against her outer thigh as I readjust my other arm around her waist. “You look good in my clothes, Katie.”
She blushes and tilts her head down. “You sound rather possessive, Ethan.”
“I feel possessive.” Leaning in, I press my cheek to hers and close my eyes for a long, quiet moment, breathing her in, absorbing her. “I want you. So damn much. Being apart from you just about killed me.”
She sighs as she runs her fingers along my shoulders. God, her touch feels good. “I-I want you, too.”
Triumph surges through me at her admission. “After everything you told me, I think I understand where you’re coming from. And I don’t want to push you. I know you’re scared, but I won’t hurt you. I promise.”
“I know.” She nods. “I trust you.”
My heart sinks. I don’t know if I’m worthy of her trust. I want to be. God, how I want to be. But I’ve lied to her for so long and I feel like a total asshole for that. Will she ever forgive me once she finds out the truth?
I’m willing to take the risk.
“Will you let me, Katie? Let me touch you?” I move my hand from the warm, rumbling dryer to rest it on her outer thigh. Her skin is smooth, like silk, and I run my fingers down the length of her leg, curve my fingers over her bare knee. “Or do you want me to stop?”
She shakes her head, her lips parting on a sigh when I smooth my hand back up, my fingers tracing along her inner thigh. “N-no.”
“You want more of this?” I’m torturing her. Torturing myself. And damn, it feels so good to finally let go, to finally give in to my need for Katie and let her know what she does to me. “More of me?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She nods, her eyes falling shut when I skim my fingers down the top of her thigh. She’s open and willing and I swear I smell her. Wonder how wet she is for me, if she’s confused and scared or if she really wants this.
Wants me.
I kiss her and she reaches up, her fingertips splayed across my jaw, her lips clinging to mine. Her touch makes my skin tingle and I deepen the kiss, my tongue thrusting, and she slips her other hand beneath the hem of my shirt.
She’s bold tonight. Not hesitant at all. As if she knows what she wants and she’s going after it.
Breaking our kiss, I push into her neck and lick her there, feeling the movement of her throat as she gasps, dragging my lips over her delicate skin. Her hand moves from my face to wrap around my nape as she holds me to her. I taste her, nibble on her skin, feel her shiver, and I rest my hands on her hips, holding her still. I want to strip her naked but not yet. Not here while she sits on my fucking dryer in the middle of my laundry room.
“Ethan.” My name is a breathless plea but I don’t answer her. Continue to lick and suck her skin instead, my hands slipping beneath the hem of my T-shirt that she’s wearing, touching her flat belly. It contracts and flutters beneath my palms and I finally pull away from her neck to stare down at her. “You’ll be—gentle with me, right?”
I nod, my gaze never wavering from hers. “I’m going to take you to heights you’ve never even dreamed of, Katie,” I solemnly promise.
She closes her eyes. “Oh God.”
Those are the last words she utters before I swallow them with my lips, lick them away with my tongue. I remove my hands from beneath the shirt to undo the buttons of the flannel slowly, one by one, my fingers brushing against her unbound breasts as I continue to kiss her. She pushes her chest against my hands, a whimper sounding low in her throat, and a wave of possessiveness hits me so strong I swear my knees grow weak.
She’s been through so much, has endured too much at such a young age. That she trusts me, is allowing me to touch her like this, kiss her like this, is humbling.
Nearly brings me to my knees.
I finish unbuttoning the shirt and practically tear it off of her, throwing it on top of the washer, reaching up to cup her face as I continue to kiss her. I could kiss her like this for hours, her knees bracketing my thighs, one arm wound around my neck, the other hand slipped beneath my shirt and skimming my side. Her mouth open, her tongue busy, everything about her sexy and warm and every inch of her belongs to me.
And I’m not giving her back. Not again.
Not ever.
The realization hit me like a sock to the gut after about the eighth girl I fucked in high school. They all had a similar look, a sameness to them that I hadn’t noticed until the night I hooked up with Maddie Whitaker. Flirtatious, blond Maddie had attached herself to my side from the moment I entered the party celebrating the end of school my senior year. I knew what she wanted.
I wanted it, too. And gave it to her good back in a guest bedroom, right after she blew me.
“I knew you’d fuck me,” she’d said almost triumphantly as she pulled her clothes back on. We were already finished and I just wanted the hell out of there. “Everyone said you would, since I’m your type.”