I sigh. “Natalia…”
“Don’t do this to me,” she whispers, hazel-green eyes soft and sad.
“Do what, sweetheart?” I cup her cheek, my thumb tracing her lips before it brushes up her cheek bone.
“Why me?”
“It’s always been you.”
“Stop that,” she says.
“Why?”
“I’m not…well.”
I hold her face in both hands gently, careful not to hurt her—her masterpiece of a face. Every part of her is a masterpiece. Art. Perfection.
“Rowan,” she breathes.
“I know,” I say and my thumbs frame her pouty mouth. “I think you should know, though, that I think you’re perfect. That you areeverything, Natalia.”
“Don’t tell me that,” she whispers and it breaks me just a bit—a crack in my chest.
“Why not, sweetheart?”
“I don’t feel like I deserve it,” she admits quietly. “And because we’re…friends.”
“Are we?” I brush my lips over hers, her tongue darting out to lick mine. I dart my tongue out to touch hers. “Just friends?”
Her perfect lips part, her reply getting lost somewhere in the air.
“No,” she says, and my tongue slides into her mouth, tangling with hers as our kisses become sloppy and too passionate to keep up with. “Rowan.”
I groan into her mouth and she arches into me. My hands go to her hips and I lift her, dropping her right onto the table. Natalia kicks off her Crocs and wraps her legs around my waist, her nimble hands pulling me closer by my belt and her ankles digging into my lower back.
“Sweetheart,” I groan and press my hips into hers. In response, she grinds against me as best as she can. “Fuck, Nat.”
“Off,” she pants on my lips as she pushes my sweater up my body. It almost doesn’t come off because we can barely pull apart from each other. But the moment we do, it’s quick and my sweater is gone. My hands find their way up her sweater and find her braless, her nipples hard beneath my palms, and she gasps with the first pinch.
“I have one last question for you,” I whisper against her ear, my thumbs skimming across her hard nipples and tongue tracing her neck.
“No,” she moans, her head falling back and fingers in my hair pulling me in. “No more questions. Rowan…” I lift her sweater enough to expose her breasts and lick her nipples. “Oh my god.”
Feeling my blood thrumming with haste, I lower onto myknees. I tug down her leggings, her fuzzy socks coming off with them, and I toss them away.
“I’m assuming you’ll be the one to clean the kitchen after this,” she breathes shakily, her thighs already trembling beneath my palms. “Since you started it.”
I huff a laugh and kiss up her left leg, starting at her kneecap. “Maybe.”
“Rowan…”
I inch my lips higher across her beautiful, soft skin, kissing a reverent path to the top of her thigh. My lips linger on a bundle of pale scars, stacked against each other, and I kiss. I kiss and kiss and kiss, trying my best to get to each one.
“Rowan, please,” she croaks, her fingers twisting in my hair to urge me away.
I pull back and look up into her reddened eyes. “I’m sorry.”
She sniffs. “For what?”
