BENNETT #2
My gaze drops to her pretty lips when they part, and she rakes her teeth over her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling with the same quickness mine is.
The air feels thick and charged, and fuck, all I want is to feel her soft, silky skin beneath my fingers.
I’m desperate just to touch her.
Bringing my eyes back to hers, our gazes lock.
Heat simmers in the depths of her eyes, and I realize that she’s stepped closer. Finally, fucking finally, close enough.
Never taking my eyes off hers, I reach for her, lifting my hand to the shredded hem of the black cutoff denim shorts hugging her thighs, fingering one of the loose, frayed threads.
I hear her breath catch when I brush against bare, velvet skin. Part of me expects her to stop me from touching her, but Merritt stays blissfully silent, allowing me to ghost the tips of my fingers along the outside of her thighs where the denim ends.
I suppress a groan at the smooth, warm feel of her skin.
It’s been so long since I’ve touched anyone like this I might come in my fucking pants.
Jesus, and for it to be her.
Slowly, I slide my palm around the back of her thigh, dangerously close to the curve of her ass, and tug her toward me until she’s standing between my spread legs, staring down at me.
My thumb sweeps back and forth along the bare skin of her thigh, and I draw her even closer until her knees hit the bed and I feel the warmth of her pressing against my aching cock.
Why am I doing this whole celibacy thing again?
It’s funny ’cause right now, I can’t even think of a single good, legit reason that I thought this would be the answer to my problems.
What the fuck was I even thinking?
“What are you doing, Bennett?” Merritt whispers, her voice breathy.
A smirk plays at my lips as I lift the other hand to her neck, curving it around her nape to pull her mouth down to mine.
But I don’t kiss her, not yet at least.
I just breathe her in, reveling in how soft her lips are as they brush against mine each time she exhales.
Barely touching. Only sharing the simmering air between us.
It’s nothing, but somehow, it’s fucking everything.
But still, I can feel her hesitation. The slight tension in her body, a tautness that wouldn’t be there if she wasn’t overthinking it.
She’s still fighting with herself, with her desire for me, this attraction.
Just when I think she’s going to give in, to be the one to kiss me first, she turns to the side, her cheek pressed against my mouth as she takes in one shaky, uneven breath at a time.
My lips find the thundering pulse in her neck, and I press a soft, lingering kiss there. Yet another indication that she’s as affected by this as I am.
An undeniable one.
“It’s okay to enjoy it, Merritt. I won’t tell anyone,” I murmur against her heated skin, dropping another kiss, this time lower, and lower, skating my lips along the exposed glimpse of her collarbone.
Her breath hitches, stuttering, as her fingers slip into the hair at my nape and tangle there, not stopping me but holding me in place.
I nearly groan, the teasing words tearing out of me sounding raw.
“Don’t worry, your stabby reputation is safe with me. ”
Her body trembles as she laughs, and I’m grinning, too, despite the fact that I’m dizzy with how badly I want her.
She pulls back slightly and looks down at me, her eyes bouncing between mine, thoughts undoubtedly racing to the same tune as her pulse.
I open my mouth to say something, literally anything, that will convince her to kiss me, not because of the deal but because I know that she wants to, but I don’t get the chance.
Because “Fuck it” rushes out of her mouth a second before her lips crash into mine, her fingers gripping tighter in my hair to pull me even closer.
It’s like gasoline on an already lit fire that burns so goddamn bright I might black out, my head swimming with want like I’ve never known.
A deep, guttural groan tears out of me, and I kiss her like I’ve wanted to kiss her since the second I saw her, like a man possessed. I pull her flush against me as my hand slides from her jaw around to her nape, into her hair, where my fingers tangle in the long, soft, silky strands.
Her tongue sweeps against my lips, demanding access, and I swallow down her needy, wanton whine, tightening my grip in her hair, angling her mouth to delve deeper.
It’s rough and hurried and filled with a frantic type of desperation. Everything that I’ve been keeping locked up tight for weeks—no, months. Even before Merritt.
It’s a full-body experience kissing her, and I want more. I need more. Of her. Of this.
Of kissing her until I can’t fucking breathe.
She slides into my lap, never breaking the kiss, and straddles me, climbing on top of me with zero hesitation, with the sexiest confidence, and I’m about to have to start reciting the alphabet to keep from coming in my pants.
Backward.
My hand travels down to her lower back, pressing her flush to me as her hips rock against my dick, causing us to groan.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
If I come in my pants, I’ll never fucking live it down.
Ever.
In the history of the universe.
Tearing my mouth from hers, my pulse whooshing loudly in my ears, I kiss along the edge of her jaw, dragging my mouth down the column of her throat to skim my teeth along her pulse point.
I trace the edge of that little black choker that’s been driving me out of my mind with the thought of replacing it with my hand.
I nip at her heated skin until she’s whimpering.
Until she’s tearing roughly at my hair. Panting. Whimpering.
“Bennett,” she breathes, the tiniest moan tumbling out behind it that has my dick twitching and heat racing down my spine.
It has me dragging my palms lower and lower until they’re slipping beneath the fabric of her T-shirt, and we’re yanking it up and over her head together.
I want to stop and admire her, to drink in every inch of her, but there’s a frenzied urgency to us both that can’t be stopped.
I slide both hands down to her ass, gripping handfuls and burying my face into her neck.
I want to sink my teeth into her, and taste her, and fuck her, and do a hundred fucking things to her.
With strength I genuinely didn’t even know I possessed, I tear my mouth from her. “Wait, wait, wait. Merritt,” I rasp, the words choking out of me against her skin.
Fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m stopping when this right here is all I’ve wanted.
But I have to.
I made a promise to myself, and as badly as I’m second-guessing it and telling myself I’m a fucking idiot for committing to self-imposed celibacy, I did it for a reason.
One that’s important to me.
It might fucking kill me, but I have to be strong.
She tries to pull me back to her, but I shake my head, kicking myself as I do it. “Can we stop… Just, uh, for a second?” I say before pulling back to fully look at her.
Jesus, she’s… fucking breathtaking.
Like I literally can’t breathe right now.
Her lips are pink and swollen from my lips, and her pale skin is flushed. Her dark hair is mussed and disheveled from my fingers tangling in it.
I want to tell her that she looks like every dream I’ve ever had, but I realize that she’s not staring at me with the same heavy-lidded gaze and same yearning that I’m staring at her with.
Merritt’s eyes are dark, and not from heat but something entirely different, and then she narrows them, her lip curling up into a scowl. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Her demeanor has completely changed, and I… don’t get it.
My brow pinches in confusion, but before I can ask what’s caused the shift, she scoffs and quickly ambles off my lap and starts adjusting her clothes.
“There’s no fucking way this is happening. Again.”
Okay, wait, what the fuck?
What actually is “this” that’s happening right now, and what the hell does she mean, again?
With her back to me, she yanks her T-shirt back over her head and pulls her long waves out of the back of it, then starts looking around on the floor for the Vans she kicked off when she got here.
“Merritt,” I say, standing from the bed when she doesn’t answer me. “Would you just stop for two seconds and talk to me? What’s wrong?”
Of course, she ignores me completely as she moves with lightning-quick speed to slip her feet back into her shoes.
In two strides, I’m behind her, curling my fingers around her upper arm to stop her frantic rush to leave. “Merritt.”
She stiffens, and a beat passes before she turns around, her eyes blazing with anger.
Anger that I don’t fucking understand.
“I just wanted t—”
Abruptly, she cuts me off, shaking her head. “Don’t. I don’t even want to hear it. Do not.”
“Too fucking bad,” I say, not letting her yank from my hold. I’m not holding her roughly, but I’m also not letting her run away when she’s clearly upset, when she’s clearly pushing me away for whatever reason.
Her mouth falls open, but she snaps it shut, avoiding my gaze, looking anywhere in the room but where I’m standing.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
The muscle in her jaw works, but she doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t even look at me.
Frustration spears my chest, and I reach for her chin, grasping it between my fingers and forcing her to look at me.
“What’s. Wrong.”
“Nothing.”
I scoff, shaking my head, a humorless laugh spilling out of me. “Don’t lie to me, Merritt. Something clearly upset you when I tapped the brakes for a single second, and I want to know what it is.”
She finally lifts her eyes up to mine, and what I see makes my stomach twist into a knot. It’s not just anger shining back at me; it’s unshed tears of… hurt.
What the fuck?
“Hey,” I murmur when she tries to pull away from me. “Talk to me. Please? Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I need to go.”
I hate that her voice sounds strained and that, for some reason, it has to do with me.
“It does matter. It matters a hell of a fucking lot to me, Merritt.”