I swallow hard when I hear my own words. Goddamn it.
“Are you offering up yours?” she snaps, turning to me with a slow, sexy grin, and fuck. She’s not wearing a bra.
Her nipples are peaked against the front of her shirt, and I don’t think I’ll survive this.
Tiny shorts. Long legs. No bra.
I might be dying.
My control has been slipping rapidly the last few days. Every promise I’ve made and every rule I’ve laid out for myself have been bent and broken until I don’t recognize them anymore.
I can’t play along in this game she’s tempting me with. No matter how badly I want to flirt back with her. I have to hang on to these final shreds of my control, even if it kills me.
“No,” I croak, then clear my throat. “No. I’m not,” I repeat firmly, just in case anyone is still awake and can hear this conversation.
With a barely concealed smirk, she asks, “Did I fluster you?”
My teeth grind together so hard that I might crack a tooth.
“It’s okay, Gav. I already know the answer.” She throws her shoulders up in a casual shrug. “But I’m not going upstairs.” With a wink, she spins back to arrange her blanket.
She bends over the couch again, her shorts lifting enough to reveal the bottom curve of her perfect ass below those goddamn shorts.
For fuck’s sake.
My hands ache to grip her curves, tug her toward my already-hard cock, and see how quickly I can replace all her sass with needy whimpers.
I want to show her how goddamn flustered I can makeher.
A man can only take so much before he snaps, and my composure feels paper-thin tonight.
As I fit my own couch with a sheet, I studiously avoid looking at Lena, and I ignore her sigh of relief as she settles under her blanket. When I lay down, I block out the sound of her soft huffs as she repositions.
To distract myself, I plan the house I want to build one day.
Cabin surrounded by trees. Huge back porch. Hot tub. High ceilings and tall windows.
“Stop breathing so loud,” Lena hisses across the moonlit living room.
“I’m breathing like a normal human trying to get to sleep,” I whisper-yell back. “Maybe it’s all your wiggling and squirming over there.”
Honestly, it’s me too. My whole body is restless and hot. I’m burning up, palms clammy and cheeks warm, because I’m across from Lena in those flimsy shorts.
The ones that could so easily be pulled aside for me to press my fingers into her—
Fuck.
There’s no way I am getting any sleep tonight.
“You’re letting a perfectly good bed go to waste,” she grumbles, throwing her blanket off. She walks across the room and leans behind the tree to turn the Christmas lights back on.
I stare up at the ceiling while I try to think of anything other than those fucking shorts riding up again.
Blueprints. Sustainability. Floor plans. Spatiality. Clean lines.
The clean lines of Lena’s bikini top over her collarbone last night. The simple knot behind her head that would’ve been effortless to undo and drag down her golden skin.
Fuck. I throw a hand over my face.
