He nods. “Just as much. We’ll just do what we said. Keep Mila at our house tonight, then try and sneak her back through the woods tomorrow.”
Yeah. That insane idea.
“Great,” I mumble into my hand.
Another night alone in the house doesn’t appeal to me. It’s too big, too creaky, too full of memories. I don’t want to be there alone, not for a second. But I don’t have a choice, it seems.
“Hey, you don’t have to leave her, y’know?”
“Yeah? And where am I going to sleep?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Well . . .”
I look at him flatly. “In your bed, really?”
“I was goin’ to say Leila’s room.”
“Sure. I believe you.” I turn away, ignoring the spark of desire that ignites in my lower stomach.
“Geez, a guy thinks with his dick for five seconds and it’s wrong.”
“Inappropriate! Not wrong.”
“So you’re sayin’ I can think of you naked?”
“Like you need my permission!” I snap.
“The shorts don’t help,” he admits. “I try not to, but it’s hard.”
“Oh, I bet it is.” I fold my arms across my chest as we pull up to my house.
Typical male. Typical fucking guy. Blame it on my shorts. Never mind that he shouldn’t have been looking. Never mind that it’s not his ass anymore.
I shove the truck door open and the flashes restart. My middle finger is twitching so bad, but I ignore it and storm to the door. I dig my key from my pocket and jam it in the lock, turning it so hard that it’d snap if it were any thinner.
Conner follows me, his hands in his pockets, his head hanging. I frown at him, then stalk into the house, leaving him to shut the door.
“Well, that worked.” He straightens.
“What worked?”
“Makin’ you mad. I was wondering how I could get you to storm off in front of me.”
I stop and turn to him, openmouthed. “You seriously just pissed me off to fuck with them?”
He grins.
“You’re an asshole, you really are.”
“Did I ever tell you how incredibly hot you are when you’re angry?”
“You just upgraded to fucking asshole.” I glare at him and head upstairs.
I walk into my room and throw my keys on the dresser. Just when we’re making progress in getting along, he goes and does something completely dumb like that.
Has he not heard of that little thing called asking?
If he’d asked me to pretend to be mad, I’d be laughing right now, not fuming.
I take a deep breath and look around. What am I even doing in my bedroom? I don’t need a thing in here.
I spin on the balls of my feet and smack straight into Conner. I look up at him, ready to tell him to get the hell out of my way, but I can’t. I can’t breathe.
His eyes are blazing with heat, and it takes him about a second to grab me and flatten me against his body. He crushes his lips to mine, hot and firm and demanding. I push at his chest lamely, because when he kisses me this way, I can’t fight him.
I’ve never been able to.
I’ve never wanted to.
My fingers curl into his shirt and grip the soft material tightly. He flicks his tongue against my lips, then forces his way into my mouth. A quiet noise leaves my mouth, and holy shit, I really do whimper when he kisses me.
“Sofie.” He growls my name against me and pushes me back.
I fall onto the bed, my chest heaving, and he leans over me. His hands are on either side of my head, and he’s standing between my legs, trapping me completely. He’s not even touching me, but I can’t move.
Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.
I’d be stuck here, paralyzed by the heat of his gaze and the short, sharp breaths he’s taking as he stares at my tongue, tracing my lips, wetting them.
Every muscle in my body coils tighter as a second passes and he does nothing. I’m still holding his shirt, but he’s too strong for me to bring closer. Too steady on his arms for me to make them bend.
His jaw tics, and I’m done waiting.
“Conner? Kiss me or fuck off.”
He snaps his eyes to mine with a ferocity that sends a tremor down my spine. It lasts only a second before he lowers his body on top of mine and takes my mouth in a searing kiss. His fingers dive into my hair and mine circle his neck.
Every sweep of his lips is demanding, every flick of his tongue possessive. As he gets hard, I get soft. I’m putty in his hands, and he knows it.
His teeth graze my bottom lip and I swallow a small moan, bringing my legs around his waist. He tilts his hips into me, and his hard cock rubs against the seam of my shorts. This time the small moan escapes, and my fingers dig into the back of his neck.
I’m throbbing, wet, my clit aching for him. It’s been so long since we were together and I felt this way. Last time didn’t count. Before wasn’t sex—that was a pure, hard fuck. But this feels different.
I want this feeling to go away, because it’s so