I try to look away. To respect her privacy. To think about what a great friend she is and how much it will hurt if I lose her.
About how she deserves a guy who’s capable of loving her with his entire heart.
About how I need to put her first.
“What do you think?” She pulls the door open. Smooths the flowing skirt.
“You know I wear the same thing every day?”
“It looks good on you.” She gives me a long, slow once-over. Her eyes settle on mine. “You like it?” She takes a half-step toward me.
“It’s not you.”
“But do you like it?”
Fuck, the skirt is loose. Perfect for peeling off her panties and pulling her into my lap. “I’d like it better if it was you.”
“You like the way I dress?”
“Yeah.”
“I always thought… you always fucked girls who were conventional.”
“So?”
“And thin.”
“I didn’t—”
“Never anyone like me.”
“No one is like you.”
“But you… the story about Mack. You got hard thinking about her… thinking about some revenge blow job.”
“No.”
Her fingers brush the waistband of my jeans. “Then what.”
“You, Skye.”
“What?”
“I was thinking about you.” I bring my hands to her hips. “I don’t want to fuck Mack. Or any of the redheads who come into the shop. Or any of Holden’s friends. Hell, I don’t want to fuck lingerie models. Unless they’re you.”
Her eyes go wide.
“I don’t want anyone else, Skye. I want you.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Skye
Forest shifts his hips, pinning me to the wall.
My eyelids flutter closed.
His lips connect with mine.
His kiss is hard. Hungry.
Pure need.
Pure desire.
My lips part.
His tongue slips into my mouth.
It swirls around mine.
It feels so good. So right.
I’m kissing Forest. I’m kissing my best friend. I’m kissing my favorite person on the planet.
My body is pressed against his.
His body is pressed against mine.
His cock—
He’s hard.
For me.
Forest. Wants. Me.
I break our kiss. Suck a breath through my nose. Push out a steady exhale.
It does nothing to bring me back to Earth.
Who the fuck needs Earth?
Earth is a waste of time.
This—his dark eyes filled with pure lust—is way better than Earth.
He brings his hand to my cheek. Rubs my temple with his thumb. “You need to slow down?”
I shake my head so hard my hair smacks into my cheeks, chin, nose. “I need to go faster.”
He motions to the door behind us. “Can you stay quiet?”
“No.”
“They might call security.”
“I don’t care.”
“Me either.” He shifts his hips, keeping me pinned to the wall. “But your dad is right—”
“You are not bringing up my dad.”
“I can’t let you fuck up your future.”
“You don’t want to?”
“Fuck no.” He shifts his hips backward, lowers me to the ground, wraps his fingers around my wrist.
He takes my hand. Brings it to his cock.
His jeans are in the way, but I can still feel him.
Hard. Ready.
Huge.
“I’m not leaving until I make you come,” I say.
His pupils dilate. “Me either.”
“So…”
“Stay quiet.”
My tongue slides over my lips. “Or…”
“Or I’ll have to stop.” He slips his hand under my dress—
Though it’s not actually my dress. I’m still wearing the shop’s dress. A black and white polka dot number with thick straps. Cute. And not in a Skye way. In an adorable innocent virgin kind of way.
Though I shouldn’t stereotype virgins.
I dressed like a goth princess when I was a virgin.
Now that I’m—
His hand brushes my sex. Over my panties. “You’re wet.”
My nod is heavy.
“You get wet thinking about me?”
“Yes.”
“You fuck yourself to me?”
“All the time.” My cheeks flush. It’s weird, feeling shy given where we are. But I do.
He rubs his thumb over my cheek. “I love when you blush.”
“Oh.” My blush deepens.
“I can’t always tell with your makeup. But when I can—” He presses the back of his hand against my sex, pressing the rough lace of my panties into my flesh. “It drives me insane.”
“My blush?”
“And the way you groan over your drinks.” He turns his hand over. Presses his palm against me. “The way you look at me when I take off my shirt.”
“You do that on purpose?”
“Yeah.”
“Bastard.”
His lips curl into a smile. “And this?” He drags his fingertip down my cheek, chin, neck, collarbone. All the way to the neckline of my dress. “You telling me you aren’t trying to drive me out of my mind?”
“I didn’t think—”
“You always think.”
“That you wanted me.”
“I do.” He pushes the right strap off my shoulder. Then the left. “I have.”
“For how long?”
“A long time.”
“But Mack—”
“Forget about Mack,” he says. “I don’t want to think about her right now. I don’t want to think about shit right now.” He presses his palm into my sex. Softly. Then harder.
Fuck, the pressure is intense. “Forest.”
“Quiet.”
“Okay.” I try to lower my voice to a whisper. Get most of the way there.
“Fuck, Skye—”
“Yeah?”
“You drive me crazy. You know that?”
I shake my head.
He nods yeah, you do. He drags his hand over my sex. Until his fingers are on my clit, pressing the lace into my tender flesh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this.”