Chapter 34 #2
She puts a hand on my chest and shoves. “If you get to, I get to.”
“I’m not fucking anyone,” I say. “But is that why you’re so upset, then? You’re that desperate for sex?”
Her eyes narrow. “I’m not desperate. You’re the one sneaking out when our every move is being watched, just so you can get off. I bought you a sex toy. Use that instead.”
“I haven’t had sex in months,” I say, and curse in French. The anger is too close to the surface. She’s not going to let this go. “Do you think I wake up hard most mornings? I don’t. That was because of you.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, Wilde. Because I am attracted to you. That’s what you’ve wanted me to say for weeks, isn’t it?
That I look at you and wonder what you’d taste like, what you’d feel like.
” I take a step closer. “That it’s inconvenient and frustrating and against my will, and I hate that you’ve noticed it.
That I had to come in the shower this morning, and it was you I was picturing.
Lying outside my office window with your bikini top off, basking in my line of sight.
Is that what you want to hear?” My hand comes up, cupping her face.
“Do you think that means you’ve won this set? ”
Her lips part, like she’s shocked. Like I’ve surprised her for once. I lean in closer, my hands sliding down her arms to find the low of her back.
Her skin is cool from the lake’s water.
“I’m not fucking anyone, darling,” I say. “Things would be a lot simpler if I was.”
“Oh.”
“But I’m not the only one who is turned on here.”
Paige’s hands come up to rest against my bare chest, flat against my skin. Her touch feels like fire. “I’m not turned on.”
“You asked me to kiss you the other night.”
“I gave you a chance to practice.”
“You just stripped naked in front of me.”
Her fingertips turn into claws, nails digging into my skin. “To prove a point,” she says. “I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been fine a single day since I met you,” I say, and feel those dimples at her low back beneath my fingers. I’m hard again, aching behind my belt buckle. “When was the last time you had sex?”
“New Year’s,” she answers immediately, and I almost regret asking. “I was at a friend’s party, and someone I went to high school with showed up. We went home together. So… six months ago.”
“Was it good?” I ask. Picturing it hurts.
“It was fantastic,” she tells me. “It was the best sex of my life. Incredible. Mind-blowing. I came seven times.”
I lean in closer, mouth by her ear. She smells good. “Liar.”
Her breath is warm against me. I shift my lips down and press them against the quick pulse at her neck.
And she arches into me.
Like she wants this just as much as I do.
“Six months is too long for you, isn’t it?” I murmur against her skin, and she presses her bare hips against me. The pressure is all it takes. I fit my lips against hers and she wraps her arms around my neck.
She kisses me with barely concealed rage.
I meet her stroke for stroke, my tongue brushing hers. I’ve never kissed anyone like her. There’s not a single passive thing about Paige. Nothing docile, nothing soft. No, I’m learning that you have to earn her softness.
Her walls are sky fucking high.
My hands roam. I smooth over her soft skin, her round hips, her long, bare back and down to grip the curve of her ass.
She grinds against me. “You’re hard again,” she says.
“That happens, yes,” I say. It’s more nonchalant than I feel. My cock is painful behind my zipper.
“You really do want me.” She leans back, victory in her eyes, lips swollen from my kisses. “Point, Wilde.”
I stroke my hand down the side of her torso. I brush a thumb over her nipple and hear her indrawn breath. “No,” I tut. “The game isn’t over yet. We need to check if you do, too…”
My hand smooths over the softness of her stomach and down between her legs. Paige doesn’t move away. She just looks at me, hands clasped behind my neck. “Widen your legs, darling.”
Her breath catches. But she widens her stance, just a little. Enough for my hand to slide down and cover her pussy. I run two fingers through her folds.
The softness makes my jaw work. Fuck. Wetness coats my fingers, evidence of her own need. I find the small firmness of her clit and brush my thumb over it.
Paige’s breath catches.
“Here, hmm?” I ask. “You’re wet. I think that means we each won a point.”
“I hate you,” she says against my lips.
My fingers continue to stroke. She’s soaked. “This doesn’t feel like hate.”
“It is,” she says. “I hate that you make me feel this way. I hate that my body reacts. And I hate it for wanting you.”
My fingers still, my hand still cupping her pussy fully. “Hate me if you must,” I say. “But don’t you fucking dare hate your body.”
“Don’t you hate it too?” she says. “Don’t you hate how you feel?”
“I’m angry at plenty of things. But I hate how much I don’t hate your body, darling. Not even a little bit.”
If only I did. It would make things so much easier. But standing here with her clad only in darkness, her taste still on my mouth and her pussy against my hand… I’ve never wanted anyone more.
Her hands come to rest against my chest. “You still haven’t told me the truth of your hickey.”
Of course she won’t let it go. “Wilde,” I say. I don’t know whether it’s a plea or an apology. I can’t tell you, I think. I can’t.
She pushes me away. “No. Until you tell me, you don’t get to touch me.”
She pulls her arms through my shirt. Then she scoops up her clothing and walks past me. “Stay on your side of the bed!” she calls, and walks up the steps.
The lake was calm just seconds ago. Now I can hear crashing waves, the pounding of my own thrumming heartbeat and the hot touch of her tongue against my own.
I watch her disappear and reach down to readjust myself. With her in my bedroom, I can’t jerk off to her thong and perfume again either.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.