Chapter 9 #2
“Shut up,” I snapped, not wanting to listen to his sweet words because they were a lie. “Take your horseshit and try to sell it to someone else. I’m not buying.”
“It’s not horseshit.” He took a step toward me, and I stepped back, yanking my coat off and throwing it at him. Without breaking his stride, he caught it and tossed it on my bed. He kept coming, and I kept backing up until I was pressed up against my wall with nowhere to go. “I mean every word.”
I held out my hand and pushed it against his chest, as much to stop him as it was to stop myself.
With his scent surrounding me and the heat of his body seeping into my hand, I had to force myself not to curl my fingers into the material of his crisp shirt.
Not to rip those buttons straight down the middle.
Not to claw at his chest and make him feel even an ounce of the pain he’d put me through this past year.
“If you step one foot closer to me, I’m either going to slap you or… ”
“Or what? What are you gonna do, firefly?”
“Don’t call me that,” I said, without nearly as much force as I’d intended because the nickname swept over me, lighting up my insides and making my body hum for him.
Just like always. And just like always, it reminded me of earlier times—better times—when we’d run around the resort as kids, catching fireflies at dusk.
“Tell me this date wasn’t just to spite me.”
“How big of an ego do you have? The date had nothing to do with you.”
“And that’s the story you’re sticking with?” he asked, brows raised.
“There’s no story because it’s the truth. My going out tonight wasn’t about you or your stupid face being in my town, in my inn, or sharing a fucking wall with me.”
“If that’s true, there’s a very easy way to prove it,” he said.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Kiss me.”
I huffed out an incredulous laugh and shook my head. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal, although there was no denying the heat in his eyes as he stared down at me, or the rigid set of his shoulders. “If I don’t affect you at all, kissing me should be no big deal. So, prove it.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m kissing you just to prove something.”
He stepped closer, despite my earlier threat.
So close, his chest grazed my own, my nipples tightening at the heat pouring off him.
Without breaking our gazes, he brought his hand up, moving slowly enough that I could’ve stopped him if I wanted to.
But despite my bluster…despite the roadblocks I’d thrown up between us, I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
The second his fingertips made contact with the bare skin above the neckline of my dress, a shiver skated down my spine and goose bumps erupted everywhere. Every touch was weighted with his heavy stare, an air of reverence to it, as if he couldn’t believe he had the privilege of touching me.
And that right there was why it had always been so easy to get lost in him. He made me feel like every whisper of his fingers against me meant something. Made it seem like he’d been starving for it, no matter how long it’d been since the last time we’d been together.
“Then don’t kiss me to prove something,” he whispered, tracing along my neckline, across my collarbone, over my bare shoulders until he cupped my neck, his thumb pressing softly but firmly under my chin.
He tilted my head up as he lowered his face to mine.
We were centimeters apart now, so close his breath ghosted over my lips.
I could taste the mints he loved with every one of his exhales, and that, combined with the scent of him—all warm and clean and mine—and I was lost to him. “Kiss me because you want to.”
I snapped, the frayed thread holding me back disintegrating with those handful of words.
Without thinking about what this meant, how bad of a decision it was, or just how much I was going to regret it in the morning, I pushed up on my tiptoes, threw my arms around his neck, and crushed my lips to his.
To his credit, he didn’t miss a beat. With a groan, he gripped my ass in both palms, lifting me up so he could pin me against the wall. He swept his tongue between my lips, sliding it against my own. His taste was so familiar it made my chest ache, and I couldn’t hope to hold back my moan.
His hands were everywhere, sweeping over me. Gripping, clutching, caressing, like he couldn’t get enough of the feel of me beneath his fingers. Like he was trying to prove to himself this was real.
Just like they always did, things between us escalated quickly, exploding into something neither of us could escape.
With my legs wrapped around his hips, my dress hiked up indecently, and only a tiny scrap of lace separating us, I had no problem feeling exactly how affected he was by this.
By me. His cock was thick and hard against my pussy, the head hitting my clit with every rock of his hips, and I wanted it. Needed it.
I moaned his name against his lips, and he groaned, digging his fingers into my ass as he held me tight to him.
“Fuck.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then ran his lips along my jaw, his teeth scraping my earlobe, his panting breaths sending shivers down my spine. “You feel so fucking good, baby girl. Show me how much you want it. Grind that needy little cunt down on me. Just like that.”
I whimpered, rolling my hips against the huge bulge in his pants, my body desperate and aching, my panties soaking wet. I wanted these clothes off. Wanted to feel him against me with nothing between us.
He adjusted his stance, pressing harder against me, and caught my moan with his mouth.
He kissed me as if he’d never get enough, cupping my ass in his hands and guiding my movements, grinding me down harder against him.
“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take what you need and come.
I want you to soak the front of my pants.
Want to be able to smell your pussy on me all fucking night. ”
Locking my ankles tighter around him, I pressed down harder against his cock. He grunted, gripping my ass, digging his fingers deeper into my flesh, like he was holding himself back. Like he was just as lost to this as I was. And knowing that was all it took.
I broke apart in his arms, my orgasm tearing through me as he whispered dirty words against my ear, but it wasn’t enough. Heat still bloomed low in my belly, the answering ache in my clit reminding me just how much more he could give me. Just how much more I needed from him.
His breaths were harsh against my ear, his low groan reverberating through me. “I missed you so fucking much, baby girl.”
His words—so innocuous in any other circumstance—were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.
The reminder of just how long it’d been since we’d been together might as well have been a brick wall, and I crashed headfirst into it.
Even despite the waves of bliss still rolling through me.
Despite the ache in my pussy, still desperate for him.
I jerked away, shoving against his chest as hard as I could until he set me down on wobbly legs, resting his hands on my hips to steady me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice raspy, his pupils blown wide, and his cock straining hard against the front of his pants. With a frown, he scanned me from head to toe as if he could find whatever the problem was and fix it.
But he couldn’t see the ravaged pieces of my broken heart that he’d left behind, and I refused to show him an ounce of that weakness.
“Leave.” I pressed both palms firmly against his chest and gave him another shove toward the door. “I mean it, Chase. I want you out of my room. Now.”
“Addie, what—”
“Get out,” I snapped, shoving him one last time.
Whether from the surprise of it or because he finally relented, he stepped backward into our shared bathroom, concern blanketing his features as he stared at me with worried eyes.
And this time, when I slammed the door in his face, he let me.