Goddamn, where are the chatty undergrads when Ineedthem?
"I've been experimenting a lot recently," she continued, oblivious to my disinterest, "and trying to find beauty in everyday things. Apple cores, subway stations, coffee mugs. I'm channeling it into sculpture, painting, textile work. I have to tell you all about it. And—I can't believe I didn't mention this sooner!—I'm sketching nudes again. I feel like it's my form of digestion. They're not for anyone else to see, but if I don't do it frequently, I get creativelyconstipated."
The artist's temperament. That finickybitch.
"But you're still my favorite nude," Dorrance went on. "Please, Riley. I know I'll get through some of the blocks I've encountered if you'll sit for me. Oh! You'll love this. I have a new blend from my organic cannabis guy, too. So good you don't even have to chase it with Ecstasy to really get into the rightheadspace."
Oh myfuckinggod.
I brought my hand to my forehead. "Dorrance, Ireally—"
"There you are." An arm curled around my waist, and then I caught a hit of purple as Alex tucked herself into my side. "Sorry that took so long," shepurred.
I braced myself for the inevitable series of minor injuries that followed nearly all of our embraces, but it never came. That left me blinking down at Alex, my shoulders bunched and jaw tight, while her thumb stroked my lower back over myshirt.
"I've been right here this whole time," I said. "Right here. Just waiting for you,Honeybee."
Alex swallowed thickly as she ran her palm down the length of my tie. She stopped at my belt buckle, and there was real comedy in the way Dorrance's gaze widened when she noticed Alex's hand a couple of inches from my cock. I didn't believe I'd been on the receiving end of such an overt show of possession in myentirelife.
It made me want to reciprocate. Kiss her, hold her, mark her, club her over the head and drag her back to my cave. Anything. Anything that would screamThis one is for me and I'mforher.
In the back of my brain, a tiny voice was busy reminding me that we were only playing. This performance was some well-timed theater bolstered by friendship and an undercurrent of attraction, and this scene wouldn't outlast theweekend.
But that voice was an asshole and it was time to stop listeningtohim.
Stopthinking.
Stopwaiting.
Starttaking.
I brought my hand to Alex's cheek, tipping up her face as I leaned down, and our lips met for a brief, electric moment that stole my breath. Sucking in a lungful of air, I lashed my arm around her waist and forced a squeak from herthroat.
"Not done," Igrowled.
"Neither am I," she replied, her palm flat on the small of my back and urging mecloser.
Yes.Yes.That was exactly the reaction Iwanted.
I kissed her the way I'd been wanting to kiss her for weeks. She tasted of wine and her lips felt like they belonged on my skin. Lips crushed against each other, rough and demanding. Frustrated to the point of desperation. Promises spoken in sighs and sealed with tinybites.
Then I kissed her as if I'd been doing it for months and already knew her body, her desires. In a way, I did. I knew so much of Alex that kissing her was simple. Simple, and hot enough to searmyskin.
I dug my fingers though her hair, wanting to gain some degree of control, and dragged her bottom lip between my teeth. She hummed, the noise vibrating between us, and it rattled away all sense of time and place. It didn't matter where we were or who was watching. The only things worth minding were the way she melted into me and begged for more with her urgenthands.
I was on fire, just burning up for her. All it took was her lips on mine, and one by one, my fuses blew. I could almost hear them popping and fizzling out in my head, and I welcomed the single-minded darkness that followed. All the restraint I'd exercised, it was gone. The arrangement, the good intentions, the better judgment—none of it could compete with the mandate to fuck this make-believe relationship straight intoreality.
It was different—Alex was different—than all the times we'd embraced in the past. Even if those moments weren't completely platonic, they weren't more than flirtatious. But this, with her hair between my fingers and my shirt fisted in her hands, was nothing like anything that camebefore.
And now, that asshole voice in my head was telling me I'd never have anything like thisagain.
I ran my hands over her shoulders and down her back, and then palmed the supple globes of her ass. Her belly met the hard ridge of my cock, and her nails dug into mylowerback.
"Not even close to finished," I whispered againstherlips.
Alex broke away but made no move to step out of my arms.Fucking right.I wasn't prepared to let her go, nor was I convinced I could continue standing without her as an anchor. She touched her fingertips to her lips and blew out a shaky breath. "Neither am I," shereplied.
The asshole was right. I'd never have anyone like thisagain.
