“I love this skirt on you, Cal,” he tells me as I climb inside and wait for him to join me.
“Thanks,” I say, my cheeks heating at the compliment. I knew he’d like it. It’s short, and I made the possibly dangerous decision to forgo tights or leggings. It might be a little forward and could possibly be sending him the wrong message, seeing as I keep telling him that I want to wait. But I was feeling extra rebellious tonight and I crave the feeling of being wanted.
He makes my blood boil, and my stomach flutters wildly as he looks at me as if I’m the only girl in the world.
I barely notice the scent of Chinese food that fills the room as he locks the window and turns back toward me, closing the space between us.
“Hey,” he says again, a lopsided smile tugging at one side of his lips.
My stomach clenches as he reaches for me once more.
His burning hand wraps around the side of my neck as his head dips.
My eyes flutter closed as his lips brush mine.
“Damn, I’ve missed you, Sunshine.”
“Ant,” I moan, my hand wrapping around his side and pulling him closer.
He peppers gentle kisses along my lips as he backs me up against the wall and rests his arm beside my head.
I gasp when the hardness of his body presses against mine, the evidence of how much he’s holding himself back more than obvious against my belly.
He makes the most of my parted lips and plunges his tongue inside, a move I eagerly mimic, quickly losing myself in his drugging kisses.
We don’t part until we’re both breathless and gasping for air.
“I guess we should eat, huh?”
I swallow down my need to tell him that I’m not all that hungry for food and regretfully release him when he rips himself from my body.
Lifting his hand, he pushes his dark hair back from his brow. His cheeks are flushed and his lips swollen from our kiss.
He looks hot. I mean, he’s always hot, he’s got that sexy Italian blood running through his veins. Tall, dark, and oh so very handsome.
The rapid movement of his chest drags my gaze from his hooded eyes before they drop lower to the more-than-obvious bulge in his jeans.
My fingers curl into fists.
It would be so easy right now to step up to him and tell him that I want it—him. That I’m fed up with waiting and finally give in to replace my memories of that dark room that night, of his touch with Ant’s.
It’s what any sane person would have done weeks ago.
Apparently, though, that’s not what I am where these two are concerned.
“Shit,” he hisses, reaching down to rearrange himself and turning toward the bags of takeout.
I fight to find something to say, to come up with an excuse for the reason I continually put a barrier up between us.
I stand awkwardly with my back still against the wall as he pulls the containers out and places them on a tray.
When he finally turns back around, his face is relaxed once more and he’s got a soft smile playing on his lips.
“It’s okay, Cal,” he tells me honestly. “I get it.”
I smile back at him, blown away by his understanding but also wishing he wouldn’t be so considerate. A part of me wants him to throw caution to the wind, to sweep me up and just take what he wants. To force his way through the wall I keep putting up and rip it to shreds.
“Come eat. You wanna pick a film to watch?”