“What’s going on between us?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Vance is suddenly so different. Less angry and brooding but I can’t figure out what’s changed aside from his attitude. It’s almost like he’s repressing his feelings. Is he sick? Has he hit his head? It’s kinda like he’s the old Vance, like he’s my friend and not my enemy.
Oh God, maybe I’ve missed him so much over the years, that suddenly now I’m imagining him being nice to me. But I can’t possibly be imagining his gentle hands or soft voice. He helps me up the stairs and all the way into my room where he navigates me to the bed before pushing gently on my shoulders to make me sit.
“What do you mean what’s going on with us?” he finally asks, startling me. I had almost forgotten I asked him a question.
Sighing, I blow out a big breath. “I mean, you’re being nice to me, helping me…”
Rolling his eyes, he ignores my question and instead asks his own, “You need help getting undressed?”
“Who are you and what have you done with brooding, angry, Vance?”
Vance wants to smile, his lips trying their hardest to tug up at the sides.
“Clothes, Ava. Do you want them off? I’ll help you if you need me to.”
I don’t really need help, I could probably manage on my own, but I want him to help me. I want to feel his hands on my skin, burning a blazing path of fire all the way down to my center.
Giggling, I say, “I bet you would…” And because patience has never been Vance’s strong suit, he leans down and grabs the hem of my shirt.
“Lift your arms,” he orders.
I do as he says as he pulls the shirt up and over my head. Cool air hits my heated skin, and I shiver, a light dusting of goosebumps blanket my arms.
“So bossy,” I mumble under my breath.
He ignores my comment and instead reaches for my shoes, pulling them off and placing them on the floor. Green eyes meet mine, there’s a hunger in those depths, but it’s nothing that scares me, or even worries me.
It’s a normal Vance look, intense, and possessive, and made to be felt. He gently nudges my shoulders, making me lie back on my bed. My pulse is racing, my heart slamming against my rib cage like it’s trying to escape my chest and fly away.
Then he flicks the button on my jeans and pulls them down my legs slowly, so damn slowly I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill one of us. Probably me.
Once he’s done, I’m left on the bed wearing nothing but my black lace panties and a bra, and somehow even that seems to be too much clothing. I want every inch of fabric gone, and I want Vance to lose his clothing too, so it’s nothing but our heated bodies, skin to skin.
I twist in the bed, hoping that he won’t leave just yet when the stupid underwire of my bra digs into the side of my boob. Stupid bras, who made this damn contraption anyway.
“You probably don’t know this…since you’re a guy and don’t have a pair of tits, but bras get really uncomfortable after a while. Definitely not something you want to sleep with…” My voice trails off. I’m staring up at him, unable to remove my eyes from his smug, arrogantly, ridiculously handsome face.
“Is that right? Are you asking me to take your bra off? Because I must say, I’ve never had a chick ask me to take her bra off just so she can go to sleep. Most of the time, I’m not touching their tits.”
I start nodding halfway through the question.
He peers down at me for a few seconds like he’s weighing his options, considering if it’s a good idea or not. Do it. I think to myself, secretly tempting him.
Do it. Touch me.
As if he’s made up his mind, he sighs and leans over me, slipping a hand underneath my back. His fingers are warm, and I shiver again at his gentle caress. I arch my back to give him better access, but mainly so I can tease him by pushing my boobs into his face. I’m impressed when he quickly unhooks the bra with one hand without even seeing the hooks in the back.
“Impressive, Mr. Preston. You’ve got some mad skills there,” I taunt teasingly.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.” The mischievous glint in his eyes tell me I probably haven’t. Vance is way more experienced than I am. I’ve had sex with one guy, and it was all fumbling and awkwardness. Nothing like how I know sex with my bully, my enemy, would be.
Before he has the chance to straighten and pull away, I snake my hands around his neck and make an attempt to pull him down on top of me. He’s huge, tall, and muscled. All I can seem to think about is the weight of his body on mine, our skin touching, his fingers digging into my hips while he thrusts his hardened cock into me.