His fingers flex on my hips, but he doesn’t push. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he says slowly. “I hope you know I’d never do anything you don’t want.”
“You didn’t do anything that wasn’t consensual. But I learned my lesson. I won’t be smoking weed for a while.”
I have no idea how long that will last, though, if I can’t use alcohol as a crutch.
He leans back, his hands still resting on my hips, his touch steady, grounding. “Deal.”
I blink. “What?”
“Let’s turn the weed down a little,” he says casually, but the way he’s watching me isn’t casual at all.
My defenses snap up. “Why would you do that?”
Isn’t this guy always at least a little high?
His eyes stay locked on mine. “Because I figured… I’d rather be in the moment with you.”
“The moment is more enjoyable when you’re high.” I try to cling to the distance I’ve built between us, but it’s slipping. His thumbs start tracing small circles on my hips, drawing me in piece by piece.
It was hard enough to keep him at a distance when I was drunk, but this? This is torture.
He leans in, close enough that his breath skims my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Lately, you’re the only thing I want to be high on.”
Fuck.My pulse stutters, a nervous laugh escaping before I can stop it. He’s getting too close, too real.
“My freakout didn’t scare you off?”
“Baby, if anything, it made me want you more.” He groans. “I wasso damn close.”
Right, this is about fucking.
It’s just sex.
I can do sex. Hell, I did that for years. My mushed feelings are because of everything that happened today. Not him.
It’s not him.
A reluctant smile edges onto my lips, and I’m trying to keep it cool, keep him at arm’s length, but it’s hard when his eyes are pinning me in place like this. “What if I’m a pillow princess?”
“I love a pillow princess.” He grins, mischief flickering in his eyes. “Keep your eyes on me and take it. I’ll handle the rest.”
Shit.Heat flares through me, but I swallow it, forcing myself to think. To remember why I’m supposed to keep my distance. Why I shouldn’t let him in, but the way his hands are now moving slowly up my thighs, is making it harder to hold onto the reasons.
“When are you done here?”
“After your dance,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
Am I really making an exception for him? Again?
“Well, consider your dance done.” His grip tightens, barely enough to pull me closer, to keep me grounded in his orbit. “You gonna take me home with you, Sparkle?”
I should say no. I should tell him to leave and walk away before it gets messy again. However, the thought of being alone tonight, of facing the empty silence, the cold, is unbearable. And honestly, he’s better than some random body to get through the night.
It’s just sex,I remind myself.
“If you’re asking nicely.” I bite my lip, my hand resting on his chest.
In one swift motion, he grabs my chin, pulling me into a kiss. His lips are soft, but there’s an urgency in the way he nips at my bottom lip like he’s asking for more than I’m ready to give. “Please, baby,” he whispers against my mouth roughly, desperately. “Please take me home.” For the first time tonight, I feel something other than anguish. And God help me, I want to say yes. “Yes? No? Maybe so?” he murmurs the words against my lips, waiting, holding me on the edge.
