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"You're amazing. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise."
He takes my hand, pulling me close. My breath catches as he gazes down at me, his eyes burning with intensity. Slowly, gently, he lowers his lips. My heart pounds against my ribs. I need his mouth on mine so badly, it hurts. But…
“WAIT,” I cry.
He pauses, but does not back away. His lips hover over mine, barely caressing them with his warm breath. This alone is enough to send me over the edge.
“For how long?” he mumbles, low in his throat. “Because I can stand here like this for a long…longtime.”
I swallow hard. Why is this so difficult?
“Terms.” My throat is dry, and I can barely get the word out.
His mouth curls at the corner in a wry grin. He’s looking at me so intently, I should be uncomfortable. But I’m not. I love it.
“Terms?” he repeats? “Like, terms and conditions?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
His eyes burn into mine, but his expression is so soft, so patient, I almost give in right now, right here. Forget my heart. Forget my reservations. I want to throw caution to the wind. But I know that’s not wise. I’m just not ready.
“I’m listening, Kitten.”
“I… I…”
“Yes?” His nose brushes against my cheek and his eyelashes flutter down, as if he’s taking in my whole essence.
“I don’t want to date you.”
He freezes, then he lifts his eyes. His look is calculated, like he dare not make one wrong move. Say one wrong word. Lest he scare me away. He licks his lips, tilting his head.
“What do you want, then?” he asks softly.
This. I want this. I want to kiss him. To own him. For him to ravish me.
“Benefits,” I blurt. “Former adversaries to…friends. With benefits.”
His hands are still on me, but he recoils his chin back. Like he can’t wrap his head around what I just said. Was it the friends part? Because that threw me for a loop just now as it was coming out of my mouth.
“You… want to have a physical relationship with me,” he says matter-of-factly. “But that’s all?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Friends with benefits?”
“Right. But notbenefits, benefits. If you know what I mean.”
He blinks. “Um, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
“You know.” I raise my brows, rolling my eyes around. I’m not exactly comfortable saying it.
He chuckles, deep and velvety, and looks at me with amusement. “So, are we talking… first base, second base? Third base?”
My face burns bright red and a giggle escapes me. I feel so ridiculous talking like this.
“What?” He hooks a finger under my chin and nudges it up just a little.
“You’re a hockey player and you’re talking in baseball metaphors.”
