Joanne took my hand and I pulled her against my body. We moved across the room to the sound of soft violins and even softer vocals. My hand ran along her side and hip. I heard the sharp intake of breath that left her lips before she pushed against me more.
Damn, I can't stop wanting her.
It seemed impossible, especially when we were pressed so tightly together and the world seemed to only contain the two of us. I reached up a hand and ran it over her cheek before I tilted her head up. Her eyes locked onto mine and I saw the needy look in her eyes. I was sure she could see the same in mine.
"What are we doing?" She whispered. "I thought we agreed this was stupid."
"I don't think it's stupid at all," I whispered back. "I know exactly what I want."
"Peter. I—"
I kissed her before she could say another word. She immediately clung to me and kissed me back. Her breathing came out almost in pants as she moaned against my mouth and I did the same against hers. Kissing her felt right, like it was supposed to happen… and I loved every minute of it.
Chapter 7
Joanne
Is this a mistake?
My brain felt like it was in a battle with itself as the answer switched from yes to no every second that I continued to kiss Peter back. His tongue slid into my mouth and for a minute straight I forgot how to think at all. By the time I came up for air, I was out of breath. His naked chest against my body had already been hard to deal with, now I was dying for more.
"You know this can't be more than a one-night thing, right?" I asked him. "The last thing I want is for you to get hurt."
"I won't get hurt," he said firmly. "I want you. I've always wanted you. One night shouldn't hurt anything. We were friends before and we'll be friends after."
I nodded quickly.
He was right.
Of course he was right.
I was overthinking things and making them more complicated than they ever needed to be. We were friends and once we parted ways we would continue to be friends.
Peter's fingers broke me out of my self-argument. His hand pushed up underneath my shirt and his nails glided over my stomach and up to my breasts. I groaned and leaned against him. I needed to feel more of his touch, every minute of it, until I was dizzy and weak.
"Peter," I groaned. "Let's go somewhere else."
He nodded and finally released me just long enough to turn the stove down really low. Once he'd made sure our dinner wasn't going to burn, he dragged me out of the kitchen and down into his bedroom. His bed looked big, soft and inviting. I ran my hand over the blanket all of a sudden nervous again.
Are we really about to do this?
It would be crossing a line in our relationship, one that had never been crossed.
I closed my eyes as his fingers ran over the back of my neck. His touch was so warm and inviting that I leaned into it wanting more. He ran his fingers over my throat and down to my chest. He drew them across from one shoulder to the other as I felt my body heating up.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"Admiring every inch of you. How could I not?"
My cheeks reddened. "Now who's the sappy one," I managed to mumble out.
He laughed and turned me around. "I'm not sappy. I just know what I have right in front of me and how much I admire looking at you."
I started to protest, but he must have known that it was coming. Peter pushed me backward and I plopped onto the bed before he straddled my lap. He pushed me to lie on my back and leaned down before he captured my lips again.
I squirmed against him and felt my body respond to his touch. My skin tingled with electricity as he caressed my throat with his thumb. He stopped kissing my lips and started kissing my throat. I leaned into his mouth and groaned as his warm breath made me shudder in delight. His teeth grazed over my throat and I cried out as he nipped me just right.
Peter pushed himself up before he gripped the hem of my top and yanked it up and over my head. He tossed it to the side and lifted me up a bit before he disposed of my bra as well. It hit the floor as he stared down at my figure, his eyes hungry and lustful as he took me in.