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I loosen my hold, but her fingers wrap around my forearm. I’ve lost the will to fight it.
Her fingers glide along my forearm, and I break out in a wave of goose bumps as they drift over the back of my hand. “Is this okay? Are we okay?” she whispers.
“We’re okay.” I curl my fingers around hers.
The movie ends, and the streaming service previews the second in the series.
Her lips brush my wrist. “The movie’s over.”
I stroke the edge of her jaw. “You can stay for another one, if you want.”
She exhales a shaky breath. “I don’t want to push so much that you do something you regret and tell me it’s a mistake again.”
“I shouldn’t have said that.” I drop my head. “I’m responsible for my own actions.”
“What does that mean?” She tips her head, offering me access to her skin.
And I take it. I feel her pulse hammering against my lips. She smells so good, feels even better tucked against me like this. So I give her the truth, even if it’s damning. “It means I could have made a thousand different decisions, but I chose to kiss you.”
“Because I pushed you.” Her breaths come faster, unsteady.
“Because I let you.” I had every opportunity to walk away, but I didn’t. I kept telling her no, but everything I’ve done contradicts my words. The electric draw is impossible to deny.
I sweep the contour of her bottom lip with my thumb, and her tongue peeks out.
The next movie has started, but neither of us pays attention to it.
Part of me realizes if I don’t stop this, I could be exploding nearly a decade of friendship. But my career is circling the drain, my body is a fucking mess, and Aurora is the only thing that makes sense. And she’s right here—so warm, and alive, and beautiful. I want this one good thing. Fuck what’s right. Fuck blowing up my life.
I slip my thumb between her parted lips as her eyes lift.
I’m so screwed.
We both groan as her lips close around my thumb.
My cock kicks in my joggers. Her nails dig into my thigh.
She sucks, running her tongue over the pad. I remember every moment of that kiss. Remember how soft she was. How perfect she was. Is. I doomed myself by kissing her. I’ll never forget it, and there will never be another who can compare.
She moans my name as I sweep my thumb along her plush bottom lip.
I press my lips to her temple. I’ve rejected her too many times already. Hurt her more than I’ve meant to. I can’t do it again. I don’t want to. “What do you need, Princess?”
“I don’t know.” Her hand slides between her thighs. “I’m so achy.”
“Do you want me to help you with that?” Fuck the consequences. I’d give anything to touch her right now.
She sucks in a breath. “Hollis?”
I shift, dropping my feet to the floor. My knee is stiff from being straight for so long. I pat my lap. “Come here.”
She turns, eyes wide and uncertain, like she doesn’t quite trust me. It makes sense considering how hot and cold I’ve been.
I skim the outside of her left thigh. Her skin pebbles under my touch. “Is this okay?”
She nods, eyes searching mine.
I pat the space beside my right hip and wrap my hand around the back of her leg, above her knee, tugging gently. She follows the cue, straddling my lap.
