I don’t even try to hide it now.She's the one who mentioned it.She's the one who acted like it's all part of the process.
She’s also the one who keeps glancing at it.
“What about this?”Her hands rub deeper into my upper thigh.“How does that feel?”
“Yeah.That’s good.”
So fucking good.
Her stroke slows as she takes her time.
“Fuck, Hart.Your hands feel so good.”
She pretends she doesn’t hear me, and keeps working on my thigh, easing the pain.Her fingers drift, and shit.That brush was too deliberate to be an accident this time.
Is she taunting me?
She stills for half a second, like she’s deciding whether to acknowledge that I spoke at all.Then she resumes, firmer now, almost rough—like she’s daring me to complain.Her fingers drag a little too close again, her knuckles brushing where they absolutely shouldn’t.
I hiss when she presses harder into my thigh.“Easy,” I mutter.“You’re supposed to be helping, remember?”
Her mouth tightens.“I am helping.”
“Maybe you could help with the other issue you've created instead,” I mutter, wincing at the pain.
She freezes.Her breath goes shallow, chest rising too fast, and she pulls her hands back before reaching for a towel.
“You know what?I’m done,” she says.
Pain shoots through my leg when she shifts away, but I don’t stop her.I just watch her standing in between my thighs, taking in how her fingers curl into fists at her sides.
“Funny,” I murmur.“Because a second ago, you didn’t seem done.”
Her head snaps up.“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”I ask quietly.“Point out the obvious?”
She swallows.I see it.See the war on her face—the discipline, the rules, the part of her that’s furious she let it go this far battling the part that doesn’t want to step back at all.
“You’re hurt,” she says finally, like that settles it.Like it's going to protect her from what's clearly going on between us.“This isn’t—”
She doesn't finish the sentence.She just looks at me.Reallylooks.
Her gaze drops to my mouth, then my chest, and finally to my black shorts.It lingers there before she meets my eyes again.Her eyes have darkened.Something’s shifted.
“This was a mistake,” she says.Her breath leaves her in a shaky exhale.She doesn’t move away, though.
I don’t either.I can't.
The silence stretches between us.It's thick, electric, and unbearable.My leg throbs.Everything else burns, but it doesn't stop how much I want her.
She lifts a leg over mine, and I feel deflated, knowing she's going to leave me here, unable to chase after her.
That is until her lips are suddenly crashing against mine.
What the fuck is going on?
Her hands cup my cheeks, and she holds me in place as she takes.
