‘I guess the conflicting way we felt actually fuelled how explosive our sex was back then.’
‘Yeah. It did. We had some pretty wild times, that’s for sure.’
‘So we should consider this a re-centring experience for both of us,’ he says.
I shuffle around in his arms until I’m facing him. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to handle this and not get any fallout from it? Be able to walk away as friends when we leave here?’
The skin at the sides of his eyes crinkles as he smiles. ‘Of course. As long as we keep to our boundaries so we know what to expect at the end.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. We should definitely do that.’
‘Okay. So what are they exactly?’ he prompts.
‘We should agree not to try and turn this into anything more than it is right now: a holiday fling with a side order of revenge on our exes.’ I flash an evil smile.
‘You don’t want it to be more?’
I frown and shake my head. ‘No. I’m going to need time to heal from what happened with Adrian before I embark on another serious relationship.’
He’s staring down at my mouth when I say this and gives a slow nod. ‘That’s probably sensible.’
‘Anyway, just because we’re sexually compatible, it doesn’t mean we’re built for a proper relationship with each other. We need different things.’
He doesn’t say anything to this, but after a short pause, he nods again. ‘I hear you.’
‘So it’s just sex. While we’re both here. Are you up for that?’
After a second’s pause he looks up, straight into my eyes, then slides his hand between our bodies, moving it across my belly, then lower to the juncture of my thighs, where his fingertips start to play a steady rhythm, waking up all my nerve endings.
I suck in a breath of pleasure as the familiar surge of lust fans over me.
‘I’m definitely up,’ he says with a grin. ‘So, just to be clear, if I touch you like this, you’re telling me you’d be totally happy with that?’ he murmurs.
‘Happy? Yes,’ I say on a long exhalation.
His touch moves deeper and he uses his other hand to gently push my thighs apart to give him better access to my pussy.
Yeah, I have no problem with letting this happen.
None whatsoever.
I’m aware of my eyelids fluttering as I sink into the blissful sensations he’s drawing from my body.
But he’s not giving it his all; he’s holding back, I can tell.
Deliberately, I’m sure.
My suspicions are confirmed when he murmurs, ‘If you want to come, you’re going to have to tell me what I want to hear,’ in a gruff, singsong tone.
‘You’re such a smug bastard,’ I groan.
But he knows I’m only taunting him in the throes of sexual frustration, because he gives a low, amused laugh and says, ‘Oh, I know.’
Butstilldoesn’t start moving his hand in the way he knows I need him to again.
Dammit!
‘Okay, okay! Yes, you’re the best lay I ever had,’ I say, pushing myself into his touch, not caring now how desperate it makes me seem.
