Thank you, gray sweatpants. I take back everything I said about you earlier. I’ve never been prouder to represent UMS in my entire life.
“This makes no sense,” she murmurs. “You are so not my type and yet…”
I lean in slightly, arms braced on either side of her, letting the pause stretch.
“And yet…?” I prompt.
She doesn’t answer.
“And yet you’re wildly, uncontrollably horny for me?” I offer. “And yet, you’re seconds away from begging me to absolutely destroy you right here on your couch?”
Her mouth drops open. “Troy?—!”
I smirk. “Look, if you don’t fill in the gap, I will.”
She throws the pillow at my face. I catch it easily, grinning, but something in me shifts. Playtime’s over. Not because I’m done having fun—hell no.
But because the way she’s looking at me now is she’s tryingnotto want this and that’s got me curious.
I drop the pillow to the floor. Real slow. Then I lean in. Not touching her. Not yet. But close enough she can feel the heat coming off me. Close enough that I see her chest rise just a little too fast.
“Alright,” I murmur, voice lower now. “Let’s try something else.”
Her brows pinch. “What are you?—”
I reach up and gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingertips graze her cheek. Her breath stutters. Her whole body freezes.
I smile.
“I’m just wondering,” I say softly, “what it would take to ruin you a second time.”
She swallows. Hard.
“The other night…” I continue, tone careful now, smooth. “I know we haven’t spoken about it.”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“But you remember it, don’t you?” I ask, even quieter now, eyes locked on hers. “The way I touched you. The way you let me.”
She exhales, sharp and shaky.
”You have been thinking about it,” I say. “I know I have.”
She shakes her head, but it’s slow, uncertain.
And I lean closer still—barely a breath between us. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t. Her lips part just a little.
I watch her eyes flick from mine… to my mouth.
And I decide, right then—I wantherto chase this. I always want this to be on her terms. Her lips are still parted, her eyes locked on mine. I could kiss her, I’m damn sure she’d let me. But I don’t.
Instead, I lean in just a breath closer—so close she has to tilt her chin to keep looking at me—and I let my lips hover near her ear.
“Tell me,” I murmur, low and rough, “that you haven’t thought about it.”
She sucks in a shaky breath.
