“You want me to kiss you?” He smirks. “I thought you wanted to edge me. What happened to your little operation?”
Oh. Right. I’m supposed to edge him so hard that he’ll be known as the extreme erectile function guy.
“It’s still ongoing,” I say, reaching for his hands still on my hips and hastily nudging them to my ass. “Oh.Whoops. How did that happen?”
Ethan holds me with a long, contemplative gaze. Like a sexy game of chess, I’m trying to anticipate his next move before he makes it.
Maybe he’ll give my ass a good, dirty squeeze. Perhaps he’ll hoist me into the air, which I’ll retaliate by wrapping my legs around him. Or he’ll hold me against the wall?—
He cranes his neck down and kisses me.
On the fucking forehead.
“Oh.Whoops. How did that happen?” he mimics.
Wow. Okay. I see how it is. Boss Man over here thinks he’s so funny.
The thing is, I never back down from a challenge. The scar on my right knee is a testimony of my stubborn will.
I arch my body, thrusting my tits into his chest, then brazenly tug my pink top down so he can see them in their pushed-up and smushed-together glory. “Oh.Whoops?—”
“Aw, Barbie,” he cuts in. “You’re going the wrong way if you want to take your shirt off for me.”
“Seduction,” I drawl, “is about the teasing. The anticipation.”
“The torturing,” he supplies without missing a beat.
Amusement curls the corner of my lips. “You think I’m torturing you?”
“You know you are,” he says. “But I can sink to your level.”
“You might have to get on your knees for that,” I reply, letting out a startled shriek when he lifts me into the air without warning, and my back hits the mattress, his body on top of mine a beat later.
“Oh.” His dark eyes gleam with mischief. “Whoops.” His mouth twists upward; his lips still not crushed against mine. “How did that happen?”
“Okay, I’m seduced and tortured,” I breathe out quickly, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead, and he snorts.
“You’re not seduced and tortured,” he responds, his breath featherlight against my jawline.
“How would you know?” I grumble. “You thought I was a bot up until this week. Anyway, I’mvery, verytortured, so let’s move on to the next step, removing?—”
“The leaves from your hair?”
“—our clothes.What?” My eyes go wide when he plucks what appears to be a small twig from the top of my head. “Is that from biking earlier?”
I mean, obviously, it is. Not only does it serve as a reminder of the six miles of nonstop pedaling around overgrown bushes and low-hanging branches, but I’m hit with the realization we’ve been active all day, weekend warrioring to the max. We’ve worked up a sweat and then some.
As much as I want this to continue uninterrupted, basic hygiene is my kink.
“Let’s take this to the shower,” I quickly suggest.
Ethan stares incredulously at me. “And break my neck for real this time?”
Well, that’s a fair point. I want us to spend the rest of the night exploring each other’s bodies, not racking up debt in the ER.
“Okay. We don’t have to do anything… too vigorous,” I begin.
“In the shower, or at all?” The corner of his mouth twitches, his dimples making an appearance.
