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His eyes flash at me, and then it’s like something snaps. He takes a few steps toward me until I’m backed up against our pantry door. He pins me there with his hips against mine, and it would be impossible not to feel his rock-hard cock as it settles between us.
He’s…turned on right now?
His eyes fall to mine, and he just stares at me for a hot beat while I try to figure out what he’s thinking.
“I like you, Ava. A lot. Too much, I think.” His voice is a low snarl, and he pushes his hips against me to prove what he means by too much. “The idea that you might think I’m disgusted by you fucking kills me. I’ve never met a woman who’s so smart and so goddamn clueless at the same time. But I’m still not sure I can trust you. And it’s not just that. I made a promise to your brother, and I find myself crossing lines. Getting too close. That’s why I keep pulling back. You’re drawing me in. You’re making me want shit I have no business wanting.” His lips drop to my neck, and he lets out a strangled groan as he tastes my skin. “Fuck it.”
My spine lights with the thrills that zip up it at his words, and then his lips slam to mine.
He’s aggressive as his mouth opens and his tongue assaults mine. He drives his hips toward me like he wants to fuck me, and God, I want it, too. I want him. I’ve always wanted him, and now that I’ve had a single taste, I can’t go back.
Maybe it’s the naiveté talking, the inexperience of never having had sex with another man. Or maybe we made magic that night, and he’s the one I’m supposed to be with.
We won’t know if we never even give this a try.
I kiss him back like my life depends on it—and maybe in a strange way, it does. My future hinges on him accepting who I am. Because I know we can have a beautiful future together if he could just find it in himself to trust me.
We’re good together. This kiss tells me that much.
We’re fire. We’re hot. We’re smoldering.
I link my legs around his waist, and he holds me up with a hand under my ass. I hold his jaw between my hands, and I slide one back to run it through his hair.
My chest quakes with anticipation for where this might be leading.
We make out there for ten seconds or an hour—I’m not sure because I lose track of time as his mouth explores mine. I lose all sense of everything except for this man and the way he makes me feel.
Just as all good things must come to an end, so does this kiss.
He pulls back, and he gently sets me to the floor.
He looks confused, and then he looks…guilty.
“I should go,” he says softly. His lips are red from kissing me, and disappointment lances through me.
“Okay,” I say, the sting of rejection fresh and cold on top of that disappointment.
I want to ask him if he’s going to move in with me. I want to ask him to stay. I want to ask him to kiss me more. I want to ask him to sleep over.
I don’t do any of that.
Instead, I stay right where I am, my back against the pantry door, until I hear him close the front door behind him.
Chapter 35: Grayson Nash
A Recipe for Disaster
What the actual fuck was I thinking?
I’m not sure if I was dumber for leaving or dumber for kissing her.
Either way, seems like I’m dumb.
I was seconds from jamming my hand into her jeans so I could reach down and feel how hot and wet she is for me on the inside.
If she were anyone else, I would’ve.
But she’s not anyone else. She’s my best friend’s little sister, and I’m falling in love with her.
