I raise an eyebrow. “Have it your way.”
He smirks. “I intend to.”
Electricity floods my cheeks—and elsewhere, too. I don’t want to read too heavily into what he just said. But it’s hard not to.
It’s either that, or I have a dirty mind from not getting properly touched in over a year.
I pretend to ignore what he just said and grab the remote off the coffee table. “Thanks for the tea. And the dishes. And playing with the girls. And … for everything, I guess.” I finally glance back at him, noticing his intense gaze fixed slightly lower. Following his line of sight, I quickly spot the reason: my shirt has ridden up, exposing a patch of skin on my sides.
Scarredskin.
I cough and pull my shirt down, then turn on the TV and choose one of my shows on rotation at random, settling on the latest season ofLove Is Blind. Is it quality television? No. Is it entertaining and mind-numbing? Absolutely. I love it. And I’m hoping it can distract me from the gorgeous man sitting at my feet.
But it doesn’t. I grab my mug, letting the warmth seep into my hands, but the more I try to concentrate on the screen, themore my attention screams at me to look back at Will. Because he’s not paying attention to the show at all.
Instead, he’s staring at me.
I finally turn my head, my eyes narrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong? Do I have something on my face, or what?”
Will hesitates. Something flashes through his eyes, poking at the hunger prowling within me. He gets on his knees and scoots closer to me. Painfully slowly, he lowers his weight against my side, his hand rising to cup the side of my cheek.
I’m frozen in place, but the skin he’s touching is on fire. “What is it?” I whisper.
He takes in one quick breath. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sophie.”
My breath hitches. A thousand thoughts swirl in my brain at the same time. Before I can formulate a response, Will’s eyes fall to my lips. “Can I kiss you?”
I blink a few times, unable to move. My entire body’s on high alert, but it’s especially primed in the places he’s touching me. His rough hand on my cheek. His chest against my shoulder. Something else—a bulge—against my hip.
I was wrong.
My lips part, and my eyes lock into his. “Yes.” My voice is hardly more than a whisper.
Will’s warm breath grazes my skin, and as he inches closer, the tension between us becomes almost suffocating. One hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair to gently tilt my face upwards. The other hand finds my waist, his grip firm yet non-restrictive. Our eyes lock in a silent standoff, each daring the other to make the first move.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I lean in, closing the minuscule distance between us, and press my lips to his. His lips are soft yet firm, and the instant our mouths meet, electricitycrackles through every vein in my body. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this needy—no, this needed.
Will doesn’t hesitate for a moment, responding with an urgency that mirrors mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, exploring every crevice as if he’s been longing to do this for years. The taste of him is enough to make me lose myself. I moan into him, and he takes it as an invitation to deepen the kiss further, his hand on my waist pulling me impossibly close. Our bodies align, and I can’t help but notice the bulge between his legs pressing against me.
His hand trails down my hip to grip my ass, squeezing possessively as he deepens the kiss even more. My entire being feels ablaze. Slowly, Will grinds his hips against me, eliciting a small gasp in his mouth. Our lips move together in a rhythm of their own, matching the movements of our hips. His hand squeezes my ass tighter, pulling me even closer, as if he can’t get enough of me. His other hand runs up my back and into my hair, gently fisting it as he intensifies the kiss; the jolt sends a rush of heat pooling in my belly.
My heart beats in double time as I tangle my fingers into his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath it. I press myself closer, but I don’t think we can get any closer than we already are, not with the fabric between us. Will groans into my mouth.
“Sophie,” he murmurs against my teeth. “God, Sophie.” With a quick nibble of my bottom lip, he pulls away just long enough to lock eyes with me, his gaze deeply lustful. “You’re going to destroy me.”
As if he can’t hold back any longer, Will lifts me onto his lap. I gasp at the sudden movement but don’t pull away. Instead, I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, a sigh escaping my lips in response to the heat of him surrounding me.
Everything comes to a halt when the sound of Julian’s cries reverberates to us.
I should have known.Julian is ready for his evening snack. Shit.
Shame spirals through me, crawling through every tiny part of my being to solidify its hold on me. The logical part of my brain knows I have nothing to be ashamed of—that there’s nothing more natural than a baby needing his mother. But another part of me, held deeper within my chest, screams out at me, threatening to burst my eardrums:
You can’t satisfy him. You never will.
“I’m sorry.” I pull away and stand, making a beeline for Julian’s room. I hope my swift retreat hides the saltwater welling up in my eyes. When I reach Julian, I scoop him up from his crib, blinking away the tears as I hold him close.
“Sophie …” I turn to see that Will has followed me, now standing in the doorway with a look of concern on his face. “Are you okay?”
