“No. Not at all.” He adjusted himself on the chair and paused the movie at the starting sequence. “But I’m gonna need another drink before we start. Let me know when you’re dressed.”
I slid my shorts up my legs slowly, enjoying the freeing sensation I felt at being half naked with him in the same room. “You’re good to go.”
He stood up and turned around hesitantly. Almost as if he was afraid I’d lied about being dressed. His gaze ran over me, sending liquid heat flying through my veins. Why was it that he set me on fire just by looking at me, and Cory didn’t even make me the slightest bit warm?
Without a word, he emptied his beer. My full one sat on the table untouched. He gave me a dark look and walked past me toward the kitchen, his stance rigid. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
I settled down into the corner of the couch, stretching my legs out in front of me, and picked up my own drink. When he came back out, two beers in hand, he set them down and headed for the bed. “I still have a whole beer,” I said.
“Then I’ll drink them both.”
“Okay…”
Reaching out, he ripped the blue quilt off and came back to the couch. He spread it out over my legs and settled down next to me. After removing his shirt, he tucked himself in before he hit play. So he was cold…but he took off his shirt. That was a contradiction if I’d ever seen one. “There. All settled.”
“Are you cold?”
“Yeah. Sure. Freezing,” he mumbled, taking another swig of his beer.
A thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead almost instantly after getting under the blanket. “You don’t look cold,” I said, unable to stop myself from commenting on his strange behavior.
He sighed. “For once, stop questioning everything I do.”
He lifted his beer to his lips, his brooding stare never leaving the screen. Though I would have rather spent the night watching him watch the movie, I forced myself to pay attention to the antics on screen. And within seconds, I was laughing hysterically.
When I looked over at him about halfway through the movie, he was watching me with a smile. I froze mid-laugh, my heartbeat increasing when our gazes clashed. Maybe it was the way he was looking at me that sent a surge of heat through my veins. He watched me as if…
As if he’d rather be watching me than the movie.
Chapter 11
The next morning, the first thing I noticed was the sun shining through the slats of the living room blinds. The second thing I became aware of was the warm body pressed against mine. My hand rested on the curve of her hip, and my hard c**k was touching her soft ass. There was no question as to whose ass I spooned.
Carrie.
We must have fallen asleep during the last movie we’d been watching. What had it been? Something about a haunted house. Carrie had gotten scared, so I’d thrown my arm over her and cuddled her. Apparently, I had proceeded to cuddle her all f**king night long. She stirred in my arms, wiggling her ass. I gritted my teeth and pushed closer, unable to resist. She let out a soft moan and rubbed against me in her sleep. Fuck. If she kept that up, I’d forget all about the rules and stipulations.
Hell, I might just forget them now and blame it on my foggy head. I dropped a kiss to the spot where her shoulder and neck met, then nibbled lightly. She tasted good. So good that I decided to move an inch to the left and taste her there too. Even better.
She let out a soft moan and rubbed against my cock, making me moan. Fuck me. I shouldn’t have started this, but now I couldn’t stop. I bit down on her shoulder again and palmed her ass. I squeezed hard, acquainting myself with how perfectly she fit in my hand. She should be mine, no matter what her father would say.
She was mine, even if she couldn’t be.
Her head rolled toward me, and I held my breath. Had I woken her up? I studied her face for any signs of her being out of dreamland, but she didn’t move. She just crinkled her nose and let out a sigh. I gently removed my hand from her ass and ran it down her cheek, memorizing how peaceful she looked when she slept. It was the only time I’d get to see it, so I didn’t want to miss a f**king detail.
When my hand slid down her throat, she arched her back and moaned something that sounded a hell of a lot like my name. I froze, my heart racing, and looked up at her again. Still asleep…but she kept squirming. As if…
As if she wanted more, even in her sleep. I let my hand slide over the curve of her br**sts, lightly tracing over her perky nipple. Seeing that she was turned on by what I did sent pure need slamming into my gut. I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger, tugging just enough to pleasure her.
While I played with her perfect breast, she drew in a ragged breath and moaned my name. This time I heard it. She was f**king dreaming about me as I touched her. That was too much for me to let go of. I knew I should stop. Knew I should get my hands off her, but she needed me as much as I needed her.
Slowly, I slid my hand down her stomach. When I reached her waistband, I pressed my lips to hers, unable to resist a kiss. I kept it light. Almost nonexistent. But even so, she moaned and stirred in my arms. Damn it all to hell…she was waking up. I didn’t know whether to be happy or pissed about that.
I pulled back and moved my hand to her flat stomach before she knew what I’d done. She may expect more out of me than I could give, and I couldn’t have that. Her eyes fluttered open, her lids heavy with sleep. “Finn?”
“Sh.” I pressed a finger to her mouth, wishing she hadn’t woken up yet. Now I had to stop kissing her, even though I didn’t want to. “It’s all a dream.”
She licked her lips, and her tongue ran along my finger, hot and moist. The sight of her pink tongue on my skin was almost enough for me to stop giving a damn. I wanted to press my mouth to hers again. Take her. Keep her.
“No, it’s not,” she argued.
“You always fight me.”
Her lips quirked. “You always say stupid things.”
I laughed and forced myself to stand up. To let go. “Get ready. We have a tide to catch. Get dressed out here. I’ll get ready in the bathroom.”
I headed across the room, grabbing my bathing suit along the way. Thanks to my morning make out session, I now sported a hard-on that I wouldn’t be able to hide from her. I’d need a few minutes to myself before I was fit for polite company.
An hour and a half later, I watched Carrie ride the wave I’d sent her out on. She stood on the surfboard, her arms stretched out precariously, grinning with pride as she rode the tiny wave I told her to take. I was probably wearing an even stupider, bigger grin than she was. Miraculously enough, she was starting to get the hang of surfing, and it had only taken a tiny bit of practice.