Which increased her resolve. “If you want me up on that thing, I want something from you first.”
He frowned, wary. “What?”
She stepped away, heading for one of the trailers set apart from the rides. She walked behind it for a little privacy, pleased as punch it sheltered them from the glare of carnival lights. Even the moon seemed to have disappeared behind a cloud, giving her the sign to go for it. When he rounded the corner, she grabbed him with her free hand and yanked him closer.
“I want a kiss.”And I want to come.She plastered her mouth to his and tried to steal every thought from that handsome head.
Derrick was so tired of trying to be good. Doing the right thing had never been so hard. Painfully hard. He shifted, wishing for some relief from the erection that had been plaguing him for eight days, two hours, and twenty-seven minutes—last time he’d checked his watch.
The little witch had the nerve to suck on that cotton candy and lick her lips like she was playing with his cock.
He knew she’d been teasing him, goading him to fuck her. But he was sticking to the plan now. Trying to keep things simple as he got to know her better.
The taste of sweet candy on her lips made him groan, and he tried to think about all he’d learned about Sydney to prevent himself from fucking her against the trailerat the damn carnival.
The woman didn’t like to lose. She cheated at mini golf, and she played cards almost as well as he did. Thank God he’d been taught by his father, or he feared he would have lost that last bet last night and had to strip down to nothing. Then he would have fucked her for sure.
Instead, he’d won a kiss from the woman. He’d kept it short and chaste—as chaste as the temptress would let it be. Christ, everything she did with that mouth reminded him of sex.
She moaned and curled her tongue around his, sucking him in. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, past the long-sleeved T-shirt he’d worn tonight. Despite her sweater, they might as well have been naked for all the sensation he felt. His nipples were hard, and he wanted nothing more than to shove inside her.
“More,” she ordered and breathed against his lips. She trailed kisses over his cheek to his ear, where she nibbled on his lobe.
He tensed, the pole in his pants two seconds from shooting off. “Stop that.” The little tease knew how much he liked it when she did that.
“I will if you fuck me. Come on, Derrick. I dare you.”
She kissed him again, and he almost said to hell with it. He could pleasure her and still keep things uncomplicated.
She sucked hard on his tongue, and he knew he lied to himself. The woman made him forget his plans, made him want to just fuck her until they couldn’t think. But not thinking had always gotten him into trouble before. And he didn’t want problems with Sydney. He wanted her falling for him, so that eventually, when he did screw up, she’d stick around.
She moaned, and damn if she didn’t test his willpower every second he spent with her.
“Oh, Derrick. Baby.” She rained kisses all over his cheeks.
Before he forgot his good intentions, he quickly pulled away and pasted a smile on his face.
“So, hot stuff. How do you want it?” She licked her lips and reached for the top button on his jeans.
His cock twitched. “I want it pink.” He grabbed her hand holding the treat and brought the cotton candy to his mouth. He took a large bite. Then he nodded toward the ride. “And high. The Vortex. My turn.”
“Seriously?”
Ignoring her disappointment, he grabbed her hand and yanked her back into the crowd. While they waited in line to go up, he told himself he could handle unfulfilled Sydney fantasies a while longer. Every day he fell a little harder for her, and he liked the feeling. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the stubborn commitment-phobe was falling too.
She leaned closer to murmur, “You can’t run forever, Derrick.” She glanced down at his crotch and smirked. “One day soon, I’m going to collect.”
He smiled. “Yeah? I’ll look forward to it.” He would have saiddo your worst, but even he wasn’t that much of a masochist. He could barely handle her now.
They stepped up, next to ride the Vortex. He caught her muttered swearing, most of it directed at him. Then he sat with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and took another bite of cotton candy, all the while wondering where they’d go tomorrow, and how hard it would be to continue to avoid sleeping with Sydney without losing his mind.
“Dylan, I’m in trouble.” A week later, Derrick sat in his twin’s condo with his head in his hands.
“Tell me.”
“She’s all I can think about. We spent the past two weeks dating and not dating.”
“Which is it?” Dylan stretched and yawned. Dressed in designer striped pajama bottoms, the guy should have looked like the biggest jerkwad in the world. All he needed to complete the outfit was a smoker’s robe. But he wore Derrick’s face, and truth to tell, he looked better than the dude on the advertisement wearing the same pajama pants. Not that Derrick intended to tell Dylan that.
