14. Regret is a hell of a drug #3
Her pleading eyes meet mine, and all pretense of tenderness evaporates.
Our lips collide in a frenzied kiss, a clashing of tongues and teeth. Neither of us bends to the other. It’s a battle I intend to win.
I haul her onto my lap, and her blanket drops away, exposing her bare shoulders and a sliver of cleavage I want to run my tongue over. How she’s gone seventeen years without so much as a kiss is a goddamn mystery.
Her fingers slide into my hair, her nails grazing along my scalp, eliciting a groan. She squirms on my lap, ratcheting up my desire, my cock hardening beneath her round ass. Can she feel how much I want her?
She tastes sweet like honey with a hint of spice.
My fingers trace her exposed collarbone, and she shivers under my touch. When I finally break the kiss, we’re breathless and panting. “How was that for your first kiss?”
She giggles. “It wasn’t my first.”
I sweep a lock of blonde hair away from her forehead. “Might as well be.”
Her cold fingers toy with the hair at my nape. “Not sure. Maybe we should try again.”
This is a bad idea, exacerbating an evening full of bad ideas. “We should go inside.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“So I can kiss you as much as I want without us both freezing to death.”
Her mouth tips into a bemused smile. “I thought you hated me.”
“I never hated you, princess. You just… you’re in my fucking head.”
In my head, under my skin. She’s everywhere all the time.
When she doesn’t respond, I let her go and stand, adjusting my semi-hard cock as I wait for her to climb through the open window.
Back inside her apartment, I set the plates on the island, then pull her body against mine.
Her arms twine around my neck, and she pops onto her tiptoes, bringing her lips to mine for a sweet kiss.
“Hmm,” she says. “Underwhelming.”
Ravenous, I band my arms under her ass and heft her up my body. She squeaks, clinging to me for dear life, her face buried in my neck.
A chuckle escapes me as I tread into the living room. “I’ve got you, princess.”
I sink onto the sofa with Clio on my lap.
Our eyes lock, and she smiles. “Third time’s the charm?”
I capture her mouth once more, and every atom of my being is instantaneously consumed by Clio. My tongue slides against hers, coaxing a quiet moan from her perfect fucking mouth. Her hips rock forward, and my dick stirs back to life.
I’m losing control.
I pull away on instinct. “Clio. Baby. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
I run my knuckles down the slope of her cheek. “You’re not ready.”
Her palm skates down my chest toward my straining erection. “I think I can be the judge of that. I heard you the other night. You want this.”
“Fuck,” I grit out. “I do. But not like this. I’m not ready.”
It’s the truth. I wasn’t prepared for how much I’d want her. How much this insatiable craving would consume me. It’s not just her body, but her smile and that laugh. God, that laugh.
She shifts off my lap, and I instantly miss the weight of her body on top of mine. Why did I stop this? I could have her. I could fuck her senseless right now. But she’s inexperienced, and it might be too much too soon.
She needs time to rediscover herself, but it can’t be with me. This has to end here while I have the wherewithal to stop it. I press my mouth to her cheek, letting my lips linger on her warm skin. “You should get some sleep.”
“Will you stay with me? Just for a little while. In case…” Her solemn voice trails off.
Right. The nightmares.
I place a throw pillow over my hard-on and grab the remote. “What’s your favorite movie?”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
“Try me.”
“Pretty Woman.”
I try to hold back a snort, but it comes out anyway.
She backhands me across the chest. “Told you.” A wistful smile spreads across her face. “Penny always said I reminded her of Julia Roberts.”
“Did you moonlight as a stripper?”
She dissolves into a fit of giggles. “I think she meant the red hair.”
And the megawatt smile.
“I can see it.” I pat my lap and search the menu for the movie. “Lie down, princess.”
Soft breaths escape past Clio’s parted lips as she sleeps soundly with her head on my lap, the dark living room lit only by the glow of the TV light as the credits roll. I stare down at her, running my finger through the golden strands framing her face. She looks peaceful, almost otherworldly.
Leave, Noah. You chased away the nightmares. It’s time to go.
The voice in my head telling me to leave is the reason I can’t. I know I’ll regret this later, but I hate the thought of leaving her here, defenseless against the past that haunts her dreams.
A part of me wishes I’d tried harder to get to know her—dug deeper to find out what demons are chasing her so I might be able to provide comfort, but I’ve worn this mask of apathy for so long, it seems I’ve forgotten how to live without it.
Then I kissed her, and every thought I had that might’ve compelled me to ask questions fled with the first brush of our lips. I lost myself in the kiss, and then I lost myself in her. I could’ve stayed that way forever had my conscience not taken the reins.
Regret is a hell of a drug.