But then Lauren was reaching up to undo her top button, and he was more than happy to do this. She unbuttoned the second, then the third, all the way to the bottom until her shirt gaped open, revealing pale, smooth skin.
He parted the two sides of the shirt, his hands running up the dip of her waist to her rib cage to just under her breasts. Her bra was blush pink and simple, two cotton triangles that did nothing to hide the hard points of her nipples underneath. She shuddered when he brushed his thumbs across, her fingers tightening in his hair.
“I bet you have three of this exact bra,” he said, pushing one of the triangles of fabric aside to reveal the swell of her breast, the tight pink bud of her nipple. God, she was beautiful. He wished he were enough of an artist to do justice to this image of her, half undone. He knew it was an image that would live in his head forever.
“I bet,” he said, leaning in to take her gently between his teeth, swirling his tongue around her nipple. “You wear them under all your white shirts, because they don’t show through.”
“I have two,” she said, sounding breathless as he continued ministering to her breast with his mouth. “Not three. And how do you know that, anyway?”
He pushed the bra up, pressing warm, openmouthed kisses to every inch of skin he revealed. “I’m starting to know you, Lauren,” he said. “You’re very practical. But not always. Like, when I do this . . .”
He flicked her nipple with his tongue, and she arched into him, her knee digging in his crotch. He was so hard it was almost painful, but a good kind of pain. He’d just cupped her ass to bring her closer, wanting to kiss and lick and suck her perfect breasts, when there was a knock at the door.
“Have you seen—” Kiki said, swinging the door open before hurriedly shutting it again with a gleeful “Whoops.”
Lauren sprang back from him like she’d been administered an electric shock, drawing her shirt protectively around her body. “Oh my god,” she said. “Oh my god.”
He ran his hand through his hair, still feeling hot and flushed. “Sorry. I would’ve locked the door, only I didn’t know . . .” I didn’t know we were going to pick up where we left off last night. “I think she might’ve been looking for you. Did you tell them you were coming to talk to me?”
Lauren’s eyes were wide and panicked. “I told them I was going to the bathroom.”
Asa knew it wouldn’t help the situation to point out that she’d been gone for almost twenty minutes, that the end ing credits had probably started to roll and his housemates would’ve rightly started to wonder if she was okay. It definitely wouldn’t help the situation to tell her how cute it was, that she’d thought to slip away on such a flimsy pretense to come see him in his room. How hot it was, that she’d apparently come with the express intention of seducing him. Not that he needed much seduction.
“I’m the rudest person on the planet,” Lauren said. “Kiki invited me over to watch a movie, and I just bailed on it.”
“Hey.” He tried to reach for her hand, but she’d moved too far away. “Kiki doesn’t care.”
Lauren had already adjusted her bra and was starting to button up her shirt.
“And,” he added, “for what it’s worth, your back was to the door. I don’t think she saw anything.”
“She saw us together,” Lauren said, “doing . . . that.”
Cold washed over him. He couldn’t tell if Lauren was just freaking out because she was embarrassed to be caught in the act—which, fine, having housemates had inoculated him some to that kind of embarrassment, but he could understand if that was where she was coming from. Or was she specifically freaking out that Kiki had caught her with him? He’d thought that the change in venue meant they were no longer operating under a what happens at Cold World rubric. But what did he know?
He shifted in his chair, wishing his body would catch up to the change in circumstances a little faster. “We should talk about what this is,” he said. “Because I don’t know about you, Lauren, but I—”
“That was my first instinct,” she said. “To come in here and talk to you about it. I should’ve listened to that voice, instead of the one that said this was an open loop that needed to be closed, that I would be able to move on once things were even, at least . . .”
He stood up, not caring when the chair banged against his desk and sent several pencils rolling to the floor. “What are you talking about? What do you mean by even?”
Her cheeks were pink as she struggled to get the last button in its hole. The entire shirt was misbuttoned, the hem hanging lower on one side, but if she didn’t notice he wasn’t about to point it out now.
“Wait,” he said, her earlier words clicking into place. “Is this back to the fact that you came and I didn’t? Because sex doesn’t have to work that way. Give-and-take doesn’t mean it has to be a transaction.”
She gave a little growl, but whether it was at him or at her shirt, he couldn’t tell. She’d clearly just realized her mistake and was starting to redo each button to make them straight again. “I know that. But I also don’t want you to see me as some kind of charity case.”
Charity case? The very phrase made him irrationally angry, and he didn’t even know at who. Anyone in the past who’d made Lauren feel that way, himself if he’d contributed to it in some way without knowing . . . Lauren, for not giving herself or him more credit than that.
“You’re going to have to make up your mind about me,” he said, his voice low. “Because you used to think I was some hedonistic slacker who only cared about a good time, and now suddenly I’m this altruistic philanthropist giving out orgasms like UNICEF went into sex work. I can’t be both of those guys, and if you actually paid attention you might see that I’m neither of them.”
She’d finally stopped messing with her shirt, every button in its rightful place. When she spoke, she directed her words more toward the cactus lamp than him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really not good at this kind of thing.”
She shrugged, but he wouldn’t let her off the hook that easily.
“What kind of thing?”
“And I’m sorry if I made you share your ideas for Cold World,” she said, ignoring his question. “I won’t steal them or use them against you or whatever. I play fair.”
He ran his hand through his hair, exasperated by her even mentioning the presentations. Did she think he gave a fuck about Cold World right then? “You seem fixated on fairness,” he said. “But honestly, it doesn’t feel like you’re treating me all that fairly right now.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Stop saying that,” he burst out. “You said your first instinct was to come talk to me, so do that. Tell me. What do you want?”
Ever since Kiki had interrupted them, Lauren had been retreating further and further away. Not just in distance, although that, too. He could tell by the way her face shuttered, by the fact that she was barely looking him in the eye. He’d wanted to jolt her back, somehow get through to her, and that question seemed to break through whatever barrier she’d put up. She turned on him, her eyes blazing.
“I want to be more like you,” she said. “Okay? I really do. I wish I could hang out with people and not constantly worry that I’ll say or do the wrong thing and mess it all up. I wish I could be brave enough to dye my hair or get a tattoo. I wish I could have casual sex and enjoy it for what it is. I wish I could be carefree, and easy, and not a giant wet blanket all the time, but that’s just not how I’m built.”
A sucker punch to the gut would’ve been easier to brace against. At least the impact would’ve been concentrated, and over quickly. “Well,” he said. “If it’s not fun, don’t do it, right? That’s always been my motto.”
If she caught his sarcasm, her expression didn’t flicker. She stared at him wordlessly as he opened the door, glancing out to make sure the coast was fairly clear. The last thing he needed right now was a run-in with any of his housemates, especially Kiki.