He rolls his eyes and resumes eating, and I just watch him for a minute. He really isn’t anything like I thought he was.
***
BRIN
“No,” he groans, trying to back away from me as I force myself on him.
“Please,” I beg, almost whimpering.
“Damn it, no! I refuse. I can’t. I’m already going to regret all you’ve made me take.”
I straddle him, giving him my best pleading eyes, and he actually laughs at me.
“Hell no. It’s not happening. You’ll just have to do it yourself.”
“That’s not going to happen. You have to do it first.”
He laughs harder, shaking his head as though he’s dealing with a crazy person. I’m not crazy yet, but I will be if he keeps denying me.
“I’m too full to take another bite. If you want to eat the damn cheesecake, you’re going to have to take a leap of faith. I’m. Not. Eating. Any.”
I sigh wistfully, looking longingly at the forkful of cheesecake that I’ve been trying to jab into his mouth for five minutes. “Then it must be poisoned.”
He continues chuckling as he lies back on my couch, and I do all I can to ignore the very intimate position I’ve ended up in. Crap. I’m sitting right on top of his crotch and he’s lying back, watching late-night TV like it’s riveting stuff. It’d be stupid to act like I can feel the erection he has and make this awkward, but oh my damn, it feels so good.
I have to be at work early, and it’s already after eleven, but I refuse to let him go home. This has been too much fun. We’ve eaten entirely too much, watched a couple of terrible movies, and now I really want a bite of this cheesecake. Why does he insist on making me beg?
He’s acting as though this seating arrangement isn’t bothering him, which pisses me off. I’m a frustrated ball of hormones now. It’s really not fair.
I should have changed out of my mismatched wardrobe, but that might have made things... obvious and weird.
Of course, straddling him is probably making things weird, too.
“Please,” I say one last time, jutting my lip out in an exaggerated pout that makes him laugh again.
His hands come to rest on the fronts of my thighs as he sighs. “Fine. Last damn thing I’m eating for you.”
I grin happily and put the forkful of cheesecake in his mout
h. He swallows and opens his mouth for me to see that the food is harmless, and I quickly dive into the cheesecake, not bothering to move off him.
Maybe I can get away with it for a minute longer, because he feels really good under me. And it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything even remotely close.
Each hard line of his abs or chest is very easy to feel through his thin shirt—not that I’ve been finding ways to rub against him all night. Fine. So maybe I have been finding ways to rub against him all night. I’m only human.
The muscles on his arms are definitely distracting, and his hipbones have those sexy little lines I want to touch. His shirt keeps riding up, teasing the hell out of me.
The door flies open, and Maggie stumbles to a halt in the doorway. Her eyes widen at first, and then a slow, pleased grin spreads across her face.
“I’ll come back later,” she says, and that’s when I tense.
“It’s your house, Maggie,” Rye says from under me, taking a sip of his beer. “I’m about to go. Then she’s all yours.”
“She’s not my type, so take your time,” Maggie chirps, giving me her best mischievous grin before walking in the rest of the way and shutting the door. She heads to her room without another word, and I look down to see Rye grinning.
“I think she got the wrong idea,” I mumble, ready to throttle my best friend.
“Probably because you’re straddling me in a pair of pink boxers.”