“You think I get off on my ex begging to suck my cock?”
“Don’t you?”
He stares at me like I’m crazy.
“Think about it. Right now. Close your eyes. Imagine Mack in that dress she was wearing last night. She knocks on the door. Comes into your room.”
“This is stupid.”
“Close your eyes,” I say.
He does.
“You’re sitting at your desk, working on a mock-up. She comes in, undoes the zipper of her dress, tosses it on the ground. She’s not wearing anything under it. She’s naked. And you’re dressed. She gets on her knees. Brushes that long red hair behind her ears. Places her hands on your thighs. Whispers Forest, I’m so sorry I left. I’m so sorry I fucked him. It was a mistake. It was always a mistake. I want you back. Let me prove how much I want you back.”
His eyelids flutter open.
“That… I mean…” I can’t bring myself to look for evidence. What if that gets him off? What if he’s raring to go right now? I can’t… I can’t…
My eyes go to his crotch.
He’s not hard, but he’s getting there.
Awesome.
So awesome.
The barista calls my name.
I jump to my feet. “I’ll get those.”
“Skye—”
“You don’t have to explain. I asked a question. If I didn’t want an answer—”
“I don’t—”
“Please, if you do respect me, don’t say another word.” I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it. I’m going to throw up if I hear it.
“Skye—” His fingers curl around my wrist. “I don’t want—”
“Please stop.” I pull my hand to my side. March to the counter.
His eyes turn down. His brow furrows the way it does when I just don’t get something.
But what is there to get?
It doesn’t matter that we kissed. That I still ache for him. That I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.
Not if he still wants her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Forest
For three minutes straight, I will the frigid water of the sink to calm my cock.
The icy liquid chills my wrists and numbs my hands.
But my cock stays ready.
The mental image of Skye stepping into my room, slipping off her dress, dropping to her knees—
Her dark lips around my cock—
Her groan vibrating against my skin—
Fuck. So much for lowering the flag. I turn the off the faucet. Press my back into the wall.
The bathroom is as cute as the main store. Green walls. Pink accents. Neon sign reading I Love You A Latte.
It’s sweet enough, but every goddamn latte place has the same sign.
Every matcha place has I Love You So Matcha somewhere.
I want to appreciate the cute sign. To repeat the words without cringing.
I want love to feel right on my tongue.
Instead, I love you sends my thoughts to Mack’s red nails in Diego’s back. His name on her lips. The room humming with pleasure.
She said it so many times. For months. The entire time she was fucking him.
That she was figuring out how to leave.
That she was done with me.
She still looked me in the eyes and whispered I love you like it meant something.
It used to mean something. To mean everything.
But now—
My stomach churns. My cock deflates. If Mack is good for anything, it’s destroying my desire.
There’s nothing less sexy than that horrible mental image.
I don’t know why Skye thinks I still want Mack.
I don’t know how to explain this to her. It’s not like I can say sorry I spent so long in the bathroom. I had to cool down after hearing you narrate that very dirty story. Have I ever told you how much your voice drives me crazy? The soft groans. That throaty whisper. The heavy exhales.
I’m already getting hard again thinking about you pawing at my jeans.
It has nothing to do with Mack.
It’s you. I want you, Skye. I want to drag you in here, peel your panties to your ankles, dive between your legs.
Fuck this awkward conversation.
Fuck conversation, period.
Let me show you exactly how I want you.
Maybe I can’t make you happy. Maybe I can’t give you my heart. But I sure as hell can make you come.
After another minute of cold water, and a few more thoughts of Mack’s frustrated stare, blood returns to my brain.
I meet Skye at those wicker chairs she loves.
She motions to my half-finished pink takeout cup. “I drank some for you.”
“I appreciate that.”
Her gaze goes right to my crotch. She does nothing to hide it. Or to pretend she’s looking me up and down. “You, uh… You’re ready to go?”
I will be if you keep staring. “Go?”
“I decided about the dress. I, uh, I want to get an awesome pinup thing at the shop in Pasadena. But uh… that probably won’t make Mrs. Davis happy.”
“Right.”
“So there’s a cute store near the Nordstrom. And we can get you something in the men’s store after. If you want.”
“I have a suit.”
“You sure?”
“Sure enough.”
She nods okay. “Maybe, um… maybe I’ll get lunch to go too. At that place with the yellow umbrellas.”