Chapter 16 #2
“I gather her face in my hands and cover her mouth with mine. Her lips open immediately, her tongue snaking out to find mine. I feel her hands move to the front of my chest as her fingers begin to work the buttons on my shirt. I release her face and reach down to pull the bottom half of my shirt out of my pants and then break away to pull it over my head. “Your turn. Take the dress off.” ”
Mikey’s thumb stills on my ankle. He stares over at me. He stays silent. I keep reading.
“I watch as she slides the zipper down, the dress sliding off her body in one swish. Before I can truly take her in, she takes three bold steps toward me, places her hands flat against my chest, and pushes me until the back of my legs hit the couch. She shoves me hard enough so that I sit, and before I can even blink, she’s straddling my lap. ”
His grip tightens on my leg. Not enough to hurt. Enough that I feel it. His thumb drags slower now, higher, just an inch, then stops like he caught himself. His jaw ticks, and suddenly this doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. My pulse jumps up a notch as I keep reading anyway.
“Her arms snake around my neck, her fingers threading through my hair, her forehead bumping against mine. Hot air flutters out between her lips right before she presses them to mine.”
“You sure this is a romance and not porn?” He chuffs, shifting his body under my feet.
“It’s a romance, but a spicy one.”
That makes him pause. “There’s different kinds of romance?”
“Mmhmm.”
He leans back slightly, reassessing. “And you’re just going to keep reading that to me?”
I nod and turn the page in response.
“I can taste the tequila on her and delve deeper as her arms tighten around me and her fingers clench and pull my short hair. My cock throbs as her hardened nipples brush against my own, and I move my hand down to push her core down as I rock into it. Her mouth parts as it falls open in a moan, her eyes shooting up to meet mine. She shifts her ass back, my brows furrowing in question, until she leans forward and begins a slow assault with her lips down my neck. She continues to move lower, sliding her body off my legs as she does, bracing her hands on my chest as her tongue grazes down my pec and swirls around one of my nipples.”
His breathing changes. Subtle, but I hear it. I finally glance over. He’s still watching me. Not teasing. Not smirking. He’s laser focused. “You trying to tell me something, Q?” His voice like gravel. Rougher. Not amused. Not safe.
My heart slams against my ribs. I shrug like I’m braver than I am. “Just reading.”
His grip tightens ever so slightly around my calves. “You picked that scene on purpose.”
“Maybe.” I tug the corner of my bottom lip between my teeth as I stare back at him.
He studies me for a long moment. Then slow and deliberate, he slides one hand from my ankle to my calf, then higher. Not far. But enough. Enough that my breath catches. Enough that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“You know what I like about that scene?” His gaze rakes over me.
“What?”
“She thinks she has control.” The declaration hits heavy between us. My breath catches.
“But,” he adds softly, thumb brushing just slightly higher before stopping, “she doesn’t.”
The room goes very, very quiet. And for the first time all weekend, he doesn’t look like the good guy trying to behave. He looks like a man deciding something, and my hope surges.
My fingers tighten around the book, then loosen as it slips slightly in my lap. Neither of us moves to fix it. “So, take control.” I whisper, my heart thundering under my rib cage.
And he leans in even further. And it’s slow. So very, very slow. His mouth hovers just above mine, so close that if I breathe in too deep, I’ll touch him. And this time? He doesn’t pull back. He stays there. Letting me feel exactly what I’m not getting.
The heat of his next words brushes across my lips, a tease I’m not sure I can resist. “Are you daring me to kiss you, Q?” His voice is low, but controlled in a way that feels anything but safe. “Because you remember my warning about what happens the next time I do.”
My pulse stutters. I should step back. I don’t. “Maybe I am,” I whisper.
That’s all it takes. His control snaps. His mouth is on mine in the next breath, absolutely no hesitation this time, no testing the line.
It’s firm, certain, and deeper than before, like he’s done pretending this isn’t inevitable.
My hands come up instinctively, fisting in his shirt as I surge into him, closing the space he’s been holding all weekend.
He shifts, one hand sliding from my leg to my waist, tugging me closer, just enough to anchor, not enough to overwhelm. It’s controlled, but barely. I can feel it in the way his fingers tighten, the way his breath catches against mine.
Everything narrows. No couch. No apartment. No logic. Just this. Just him. And the fact that we’ve officially crossed into something neither of us can pretend isn’t real anymore.
He breaks the kiss first, leaning his forehead against mine. “You sure you’re ready for this?” His gaze dark and intense as our breath mixes together. I love that he’s asking permission, but there’s no doubt in my mind I want this. At least in this moment.
My hand slides up the front of his shirt, fisting in the fabric as I close the last inch between us and kiss him again. There is absolutely no doubt about my answer.
He makes a low sound against my mouth, something that feels like approval and restraint snapping at the same time. His talented hands come to life, one bracing at my hip, the other sliding up my side, like he’s been holding back and doesn’t know how to do that anymore.
The kiss deepens. Slower, but heavier. Intentional. My body arches instinctively, turning into him, closing the small bit of space left between us. His grip tightens to yank me closer, and suddenly I’m half in his lap, the book forgotten somewhere between us. This isn’t teasing anymore. This is—
A sharp, piercing shriek cuts through the room.
Our mouths part and we both freeze. The fire alarm. Loud. Relentless. Impossible to ignore. For a second, neither of us moves. My forehead drops to his, both of us breathing harder than we should be, the moment still pulsing between us like it hasn’t realized it’s over yet.
“Are you kidding me?” I groan. “Is this normal? Can we ignore it?”
Mikey huffs out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh, but there’s frustration threaded through it. “You’ve got to be—”
The alarm blares again. Reality crashes back in. He drops his head briefly, like he’s collecting himself, then looks back at me, eyes still dark, still locked in. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Definitely not normal. We should probably make sure the buildings not on fire.”
Unlike us, I can’t help but think. Neither of us moves right away. Because we both know, this didn’t stop anything.