Then she smiles. “Nah.”
She lifts to her toes and I meet her halfway, and the second our lips meet, I realize that this is the reason I couldn’t get into Cora.
Because the only person I want to be kissing is right in front of me.
Chapter 19
Parker
One of these days, sex with Ben is going to get old.
I’m sure of it.
Eventually we’ll know each other’s bodies so well that there will be nothing left to discover and we’ll be able to chalk this whole arrangement up as an experimental time in our friendship and go back to how we were before.
But today is not that day. Tonight is not that night.
The kiss is a little hesitant at first. Both of us testing to make sure that this is really okay—that we’re totally fine with the evening’s carefully laid plans going up in flames.
Then his tongue touches mine and it becomes rapidly clear that we’re both fine with it.
More than fine.
Ben’s hand slips under the ugly T-shirt he pulled over me—bet he’s regretting that now—and his palm is hot against the small of my back as he pulls me closer.
I mimic the motion on him, sliding my hands up and under his shirt until they’re against his back, taking in his warmth, pulling him to me.
And it’s perfect.
But the longer the kiss goes on, the longer it’s not enough, not nearly enough, and when he tugs impatiently at the hem of my shirt, I lift my arms and allow him to pull it over my head with a lot more ease than when he put it on.
He groans in gratification at the sight of my admittedly pretty bra, and somewhere in the back of my brain, I wonder if I actually put this on for Brandon, or if I hoped all along that it would be Ben who’d be appreciating that I spent way too much on the navy bra with adorable pink bows.
Ben’s mouth dips to my neck and I think I hear him say my name, but then I get kind of preoccupied with his lips on my neck and the delicious goosebumps that result.
I need him naked.
My fingers are clumsy, all but tearing at the buttons of his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Only once I finally get the buttons undone, I find him wearing a stupid undershirt underneath, and I pull at it with a little growl of frustration.
He gives me a quick grin and a kiss before peeling off the last remaining layer between me and his bare chest.
Gratified, I lay my hands against his shoulders and lean forward, kissing him softly just for a moment, before my hands and lips go crazy, touching every part of his warm skin that I can reach.
He laughs a little at my urgency when my fingers move to his jeans. “Jesus, Parks.”
In response, I give him what I hope is a Hurry up and get your clothes off look before walking toward the bed, giving an extra little sway of my hips before I put one knee on the bed.
A quick glance over my shoulder confirms that he’s watching me, and the hungry expression on his face makes me feel bold.
On my hands and knees, I slowly move toward the middle of the bed, then look once more over my shoulder.
Ben needs no further invitation. He’s naked in seconds, then he’s on the bed behind me, his hands moving slowly over my hips, his thumb slipping under my panty line just barely.
“Christ,” he mutters.
His hands roam over my back, then my front, before he slowly unhooks the bra, letting the straps slide over my shoulders.
His hands are on my breasts before I even can toss the bra aside. I moan in satisfaction as he touches me just right, knowing that I prefer teasing touches over rough ones, knowing exactly when to circle, when to flick, and when to lightly pinch.