That’s cheating.
I’ve cheated.
This is wrong.
"I can’t,” I choke out, even as my body betrays me, leaning into his touch.
"Can't, or don't want to?" His hand stills, waiting for my real answer.
My breath catches. "Can't. Because I want to—so badly it scares me."
I need to say I don’t want to.
After three.
One, two?—
“I can’t.”
Crane slips his hand up my playsuit, his fingers dancing over the mark he’d left on me years ago.
I close my eyes because then I can only feel him.
Then it’s not cheating.
“You want to, though.”
“This is stupid.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
I open my eyes as he moves his mouth against mine, owning me.
I don’t respond at first—I’m too stunned—but then I’m climbing him like a tree, my hands wrapping around his neck as he tears a hole in my tights.
His fingers waste no time in finding my heat, and he groans when he pushes a finger into me.
“Sierra, you don’t just want it…you’re dripping for it.”
His voice is gravelly as he pushes another finger into me, my breath catching in my throat.
I should tell him to stop, but he’s commanding me to ride his fingers, and I can’t help but respond, my eyes rolling back in my head as I suck in a breath?—
Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock at the door, and I leap up, his fingers caught in my shorts.
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking my tights up high to hide the hole. I straighten myself up as Crane leans back on the sofa with a scowl.
Swinging open the door, I find Kiki holding up takeout and a bottle of wine, her eyes narrowed.
“Girls’ night, hmm? Lucky for you, I’m a good liar.”
Shit.Shit.
THIRTY-ONE
CRANE
Fucking Kiki and her timing.
