We remained in the same position as he pulled the phone to his mouth.
“What are you?—”
“Hey, Ren,” David started in a steady voice.
My eyes widened. I pressed my lips together, keeping all my protests at bay, once I caught sight of the screen. He wasn’t on a call, thank God. He was recording a voice message.
“Sorry about that text. This is David. I’m Yara’s…” The weighty pause and a glance down at me said too much and too little. His grip on me loosened, but the shift in his hips aligned us so I could feel the seam of his jeans against my core.
David’s gaze flickered to my lips and remained there as he continued, “... anyway, I don’t know if you remember, but I used to go to school with you two. Yara and I were messing around. I have this thing for testing out social dynamics, and old exes of Type-A people are infinitely intriguing. It was a shitty joke. I promise, Yara wasn’t in on it.”
As soon as he let go of the record button, David released my wrists. But I didn’t move, and neither did he.
“What?” he asked, eyes on my chest now, unabashed in his observation. I’m covered up in a long-sleeve shirt, but that didn’t seem to stop him from taking his time.
“You…” My unfinished response coaxed his attention back to my face. His breath smelled of spearmint. I wondered if he’d taste like it too.
David’s hand was on my wrist again, but instead ofpinning it to his side, he urged my palm open. I didn’t pay much attention to the movement, too enthralled with how our breath intermingled. He leaned close enough that his nose brushed along the side of mine. Our eyes were barely open as we tested the strength of our fortified barrier. Turns out, we had several weak points.
“Is this… are we doing…?” David's gaze locked on my parted lips.
My breath shuddered, but I nodded. “Think so.”
“Damn it,” David whispered against my lips as he let go of his last bit of resolve.
The world around us went silent when his lips pressed against mine. The touch was featherlike, a dream almost fading before it truly began. He stopped for a second, waiting for a reply. I offered him another kiss. Another dream. It was just as soft and timid as his. David’s response to my offer was something firmer, longer, greedier. His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my head back as he parted my mouth with his. The tip of his tongue brushed mine, giving me a preview of what would be possible with him kneeling between my thighs.
I’ve dreamed of this once or twice, and it always ended with me waking in a cold sweat while a chill ran down my spine. David wasn’t the man of my dreams, but he’d found his way in there somehow. Now, I understand why. I didn’t know how I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t belong.
David was hard, the imprint of him pressed against my thigh. He backed me into the island, the cold marble surface offering a beautiful contrast to the heat of his body. A moan lingered in my throat, but I refused to release it. Some parts of my brain still had a concept of time. A rational part of me considered self-preservation.
Something crashed in the living room, and a group of people laughed. There were footsteps in the hallway. The threat of someone seeing us made my desire taste sweeter.David seemed to agree. He kissed me until the last moment; every second made us more frantic and hungry. When we finally pulled away from one another, my lips were swollen, and his were red.
“Hey, David,” a bright-eyed, unassuming raven-haired girl greeted. “Know where I can find a broom?”
“Third door on the left.” He gestured to the long hall behind us, turning himself slightly away from her so she couldn’t see the hardness in his crotch area.
“Thanks.” She smiled at us both before disappearing for a moment.
“Here.” He held out my phone. “I’ll let you decide if you want to send it or not.”
There was no acknowledgment of his lips on mine or his arousal pinned against me mere seconds ago. If he didn’t brush his fingers across his bottom lip as if he were reliving the whole thing, I’d assume I’d had a walking dream. Or nightmare, depending on the outcome.
I snatched the device and pressed send without a second thought. My heart pumped blood to my erogenous zones, so thrilled something like this was finally happening after a year of self-pleasure. “Of course I want to send it. It’s possibly the only thing that’ll clear my name.”
David snorted, pulled his hand away from his mouth, and placed it in his hair. He used both hands to brush his strands back. There was an easy smile on his lips, but from the frantic way he gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, I suspected his calm was a lovely mirage. “You’re welcome.”
“Oh, thank you,” I said in a mocking tone, covering up my own internal crisis. “Thank you for fixing what you broke. For cleaning up the mess you made. Thank you so much.”
He held back a laugh, biting down on his bottom lip. I wanted a chance to do that to him. David’s hand gripped hisneck as he massaged circles on his pulse. I wanted him to have an opportunity to do that to me. Harder, though.
Oh, you’re screwed.
“New rule,” I decided in a stern voice. “Just a simple one.”
He continued to massage his neck as he said, “Let’s hear it.”
“No contacting exes.”
