After seasoning both porterhouses to perfection, I rewash my hands and turn to face her. “I’m going to need more specifics than that. How do you prefer your steak?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs before biting her bottom lip, causing my dick to jump again. “I don’t eat a lot of red meat.”
“Don’t eat a lot of it or don’t eat it at all?” I take a step closer, stopping inches away from her. Her chest rises and falls with labored breaths, causing my heart to beat faster. “I don’t want to push anything, but I need to know what you want.”
“What if I don’t know what I want?” Bright, gray eyes stare up into mine. So bright, they’re almost colorless. They suck me in, losing my train of thought.
I’m not even sure we’re talking about steaks any more. Or food.
All I can focus on are her eyes and the glimmer from her nose ring. My dick twitches again, wondering just how many piercings she has.
She gasps, her sensual lips parting.
I hold back a groan, glancing down her body only to notice that my hard-on is pressed against her stomach.
My heart races faster.
She hasn’t backed up. She hasn’t run out of here. Instead, she licks her lips, killing me even more.
“I think you know exactly what you want.”
“And what’s that?” Her hot breath teases my neck, the invitation there, in her eyes.
I reach out, my hands brushing her torso in a featherlight embrace. She still doesn’t flinch, doesn’t turn away. She eases into my touch, a barely audible moan on her exhale as she brushes against my erection. Caressing up her torso, up to her arms and shoulders, I continue until I’m cupping her chin. She leans into the embrace, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they meet mine, pleading with me for more.
“The same thing I want.”
Chapter 10
Asra
His lips meet mine. His touch barely there, like a feather, hesitant, almost unsure. Yet I feel it inside every nerve of my body. It lights a torch I thought long extinguished. Passion and lust unfurl like a bomb, exploding through my entirety.
Placing my hands on his hard chest, I deepen our kiss. His hands flex around my chin, tilting my head to just the right angle as he leans closer. His arms wrap around my back before settling once more on my hips.
I’m not short, at five foot seven, but at over six feet tall, he looms over my thin frame, making me feel like a dainty fairy. My fingers tingle as I glide them over his hard pecs and up to his broad shoulders. Heat flies between my legs as I remember the way his smooth, bare torso looked as the steamy shower cascaded over each and every one of his toned muscles.
I want to rip his shirt off, feel those muscles beneath my fingers, lick them, and climb him like a tree. My head swims, my heart racing. I don’t know what I want.
He’s my neighbor, the asshole neighbor I cannot stand. Didn’t think I could stand. I don’t want him, shouldn’t want him. But then he leans closer, his rock-hard erection pressing into my stomach and all sane thoughts flee from my mind.
“Asra,” my name is a moaned prayer on his lips as he breaks for air only to press those soft lips once more to mine.
Everything else fades. The house, our arguments over the last two weeks, my own insecurities, they all dissipate into the abyss replaced with the warmth of his embrace and desire growing between us. Sweet, soft kisses erase everything, rewriting all the fake truths I forced myself to believe for the last five years. My walls crumble.