Don’t.
But . . . hell. I can’t fucking take it anymore. My mind is full of images of her, recent images that I’m surprised I was able to clear out for the game because they’ve been running on repeat.
Her asking me to feel her breasts. Her perfectly heavy, magnificent breasts. Her in the damn robe. The dress . . . my shirt. Massaging her. Her moans. Her orgasm. The little touches. The teasing. The fucking flirting.
And now, this nightgown, the one she’s wearing with no underwear. I don’t think I can hold out. Especially when she smells this good. I move my head closer to hers, and before I can stop myself, I say, “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Hmm?” she asks as her ass rubs against my crotch.
“Are you fucking with me on purpose?” I repeat, my thumb once again caressing the underside of her breast because I can’t seem to control myself.
The question makes her turn, causing my thumb to drag completely over her breast. “How am I fucking with you, Eli?” she asks, her voice full of curiosity.
“I don’t know,” I say, my mind so fucking confused, I don’t even know where to begin. “But . . . you’re making me want things I shouldn’t want.”
Now she turns completely, and her hand falls to my chest. “And what exactly do you want?”
My tongue wets my lips as I grow hard just from her touch, from her proximity, from the way I can see her nightgown barely cover her breasts.
Don’t do it.
Don’t fucking say her.
You made a promise to your friend.
Her hand falls over my pec, her thumb rubbing across my nipple, and I nearly scream out in frustration.
Fuck!
I’m hard.
I’m desperate.
And I’m so head-over-heels infatuated with this damn girl that I don’t think I can keep acting like she doesn’t affect me.
My hand falls down her side to her hip, where I grip the fabric of her nightgown.
Her fingers dance across my chest again. “What do you want, Eli?”
I’m going to lose it. I can feel it.
I want her lips. I want her moans. I want her delicious pussy. I want everything this woman has to offer.
But I can’t . . .
“Your silence makes me believe you’re not ready for what you want.” Her hand slides up to my cheek. “That’s okay. Sometimes it takes a bit to figure out what we want.” And then she slips away from me and out of bed.
“Where are you going?” I ask, watching her petite frame walk away.
“Checking to make sure I locked up.” She disappears down the hallway, and I inwardly groan while pulling on my hair.
Fuck.
This is maddening.
I flip the covers off and go to the kitchen for some water. As I walk down the hallway, she walks toward me, but her head is down, so she doesn’t notice me until we’re a few feet away.
“Oh.” She presses her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”
