Friction(51)
“I—”
“Close your mouth for a second, Williams, and listen,” he interrupts, flashing his hot stare in my direction. I press the heel of my palm to my throat and nod. “I’ve wanted a taste of your cunt since the day you came to class in that black skirt with all the silly buttons running along the—”
“Jace.” I hold up one hand to stop him, my fingers shaking. A muscle ticks in his jaw, but he lets me finish this time. “Are you talking about high school right now?”
“What other time did you wear that skirt around me?” he demands. I clamp my eyes shut, vividly remembering the outfit he’s talking about. I’d worn it only once—along with a fluffy red sweater for yearbook photos our junior year. I’d swapped outfits with Jamie by the end of the day, but I still recall how Jace had looked at the sweater and skirt combo with narrowed eyes and quirked lips. At the time, I figured he saw my outfit as the most pathetic attempt at trendiness he’d ever seen, but now I know different.
Now, I know—
I hug my arms around my waist and suck in a breath. “You wanted me in high school?” I ask numbly, earning a growl from the man beside me.
"And I want you now. I’ve never wanted a woman so much, and it drives me fucking insane that it’s you. I keep telling myself that it will pass, that all I need is another distraction. Then you do or say something that tests me and it’s like I’m eighteen again, back in that fucking classroom, wishing you’d hurry past me because the sight of you got my cock rock hard.”
Sweet baby Jesus, why is he telling me this? Of all the things for him to say, why would he reveal that he’s been attracted to me for at least eleven years? I grip my collar and hesitantly move closer to him. "So … what are we going to do about it?”
Because we’ve reached the point where nothing is doing more harm than good.
Clenching his jaw, he raps his fingertips anxiously on the steering wheel. Each tap speeds up my pulse, my heartbeat, until I’m on the verge of exploding. “I want to say we won’t do a goddamn thing,” he says at last, turning his head slightly so that his blue eyes lock with mine. “But I’m not sure that’s possible anymore.”
I don’t want him to follow me inside when we return to the workshop, but he ignores my request. Waiting for me to grab some paperwork from my office, he stands in the doorway with his toned arms folded across his chest. I can feel his gaze wandering over my profile, and I pray that he moves. That he goes somewhere—anywhere—else in this building so I won’t have to confront him as I leave. But when I turn off the light to and start to head out, he’s still standing there.
He steps in front of me to block the exit, and I square my shoulders. “Goodnight, Jace,” I say. He moves close to me, and I shiver the second his hands brush my shoulders. He trails them down my arms, pressing the pads of his thumbs to the pulse points in my inner elbows, before finally closing his fingers around my wrists.
"You smell good.” He leans his nose to my hair, inhaling and every muscle in my body seizes. “I don’t think clearly when I smell you.”
“I need to get home, remember?” Staring down at the sliver of space between our bodies, I tighten my fists until my nails dig painfully into my palms. “What I don’t need is you telling me you want me one second and then telling me you can’t the next. I can’t do that.”
“Look at me.” When I don’t, he releases one of my wrists and cups my face, tilting it up, so I have no other choice but to obey. Electricity hums between us, thick and overwhelming.
“Why?” I clear my throat to dissolve the lump lodged between my heart and the back of my throat, the one that makes my voice sound so soft and weak. “So you can tell me again what you can’t and won’t do for the sake of—”
His mouth comes crashing down on mine, drawing me in for a long kiss that makes it impossible for me to think of anything other than the desire crackling through me. A soft moan escapes my lips, which Jace takes as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue ravaging mine as it slips in and out of my mouth. I mold against him, my body on fire, and we’re both breathless when he draws away.
"I’ve told you that I want you, that I need to fuck you, but before we do this I want to hear it from you." I try to glance away again, so his fingers leave my face, curling into my black hair. I let out a throaty gasp as his eyes go to war with mine. "I want to hear you say it.”
“So you can add it to your list of things that I say and do that drive you crazy?” I demand, but he shakes his head. Wraps my hair around his large hand. Moves his lips so close that our breath becomes one.
“I want to hear it so I can fuck you without regrets.”
Desire snaps through me, and I’m glad he’s holding on to me to keep me from stumbling when my knees buckle. “I want you, Jace.” I start to lick my lips, but his tongue darts out, tracing the outline of my mouth for me. He pulls away, leaving me dizzy. “I want you, I want you. I don’t care if it’s for one night, I just—”
“That’s all I need to know, Lucy.”
Nineteen
Lucy
In the back of my mind, I know I should rethink this situation, to tell him that I just lied to him—I do care if it’s just one night—but I don’t. Because a stronger, more powerful force drives us across the workshop, to the same room he took photos of me in. And I can’t stop myself from taking what he’s offering with his hands, his lips, and his rock hard erection pressed up against the wetness between my thighs.