She’s closed off most of the time. Focused and content when she arranges a bouquet, but when she hands it over to the customer, vulnerability peeks through.
It disappears the moment her customer smiles or praises her work. I’ve memorized everything about that vulnerable look.
It shines in her eyes now, more potent than when she braces for judgment of her work. Even more so when she takes the first step forward.
The music changes to a darker, slower, more loaded tune: Bobi Andonov’s “Apartment.” Theworstsong for this situation. Perfect for a slow, passionate fuck in the soft glow of candlelight.
Bianca takes another step, her scent targeting my nose. Her brief bursts of unguarded emotions do weird things to me. My pulse quickens, my cock swells, my breath stutters...
For now, my ethics stand in the way of those reactions, chanting on repeat:she’s tipsy.
She’s not. Doesn’t look or sound like it at all, but it’s my last line of defense. Last obstacle I throw under my own feet. It’s all that’s stopping me cinching her waist and bruising her lips with mine. I’ll hold on to the delusion as long as possible.
I don’t stop her advancing. Don’t say a word, curious how brave she is. Curious how long it’ll take before her pliability hardens once more.
She stops, her bare feet an inch from mine. “Can I ask you another question?”
You just did...
“I’m listening.”
She’s so close I see her pulse fluttering on her delicate neck. Rolling her shoulders back, she tilts her head, staring right into my eyes. “If I kiss you... will you push me away?”
Heat explodes through me, a force so strong it steals the breath out of my chest. Will I? Do I have the strength to push her away if that smart mouth covers mine?
Fuckno.
“Yes.”
She angles her head, studying me as if she hears my thoughts betray my weaknesses.
A flicker of what might be hurt crosses her face. Too bad she catches herself before I know for sure.
“Am I not your type, or—?”
“You’re pretty, but I don’t like you, Winter.”
She smiles wider, a flirty look in those honey eyes. She tiptoes her fingers up my chest, grasping a handful of my shirt, then grabs my right hand, moving it to rest on her hip.
“We’re adults, Ryder. Single. You can’t deny the tension between us. You don’t have to like me to fuck me, right?”
Desire detonates beneath my skin, electrifying my stiff cock. I grasp her wrists, pinning both small hands against my chest. I was certain I’d push her away...
But who am I kidding? This was inevitable. I’ve imagined too many times what she’d sound like full of my cock.
And she’s right. I don’t have to like her for this. The sexual attraction, how hard I am whenever she’s near, is enough.
“You want me to fuck you, Winter?”
“Yes.” A firm nod. Her cheeks run red, pupils dilate, but she rises on her toes, ghosting my lips with hers. “Hard.”
For some reason, that pisses me off. Rationally, I know we both have one goal in mind: to sate our curiosity and burning hunger, but the emphasis she put onhardboils my blood.
She doesn’t want more than an orgasm...
Does it matterwhomakes her come? Am I a convenient choice given I’m right here? Anger balloons inside my chest. I’d had a different vision for this butfine. If she wants a hard fuck, that’s what she’ll get.
“Hard,” I echo. “As you wish.” I spin us around, slamming her back against the cupboards. “Just so we’re clear. We’re only doing this once, understood?”
