That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(38)

I run my hand up her thigh, wishing she didn’t have pants on right about now. “How about we skip the talking and strip instead.”

I reach for the zipper on her jeans, but she stops me. “Or we can talk, and then you can do whatever you want to me in the bedroom.”

“Whatever I want?” I ask, brow raised.

“Within reason. I have some hard nos.”

I think it over. I mean, anything I want. I think I can suck it up for that particular reward.

“Remember, we were friends first, which means you used to tell me things. Don’t stop now that you can get in my pants.”

I chuckle. “You’re so fucking eloquent.”

“I pride myself on it.” She tugs on my shirt. “Come on. How about for every thing you tell me, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. How does that sound?”

“Promising,” I answer, my hands slipping under her shirt, my mood already lightening. “How about we start with this.” I lift her shirt up and over her head, revealing a purple lace bra. Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more perfect tits on a woman. Not super huge—just two perfect handfuls.

Needing more, I reach for the front clasp of her bra, but she quickly swats me away. “I gave you a shirt, so now you give me some details about your day.”

“Fine,” I huff. “My dad wanted to, as he put it, carve out some time to talk.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad. What did he want to talk about?”

I shake my head. “Pants. I want the pants off before I answer.”

Sighing, she stands and strips out of her jeans, revealing a matching pair of lace boy shorts. God, those are hot, and see through. She proceeds to sit back on my lap, where I’m sure she can feel my growing excitement.

“First he mentioned how we were dating. Brig told him,” I say. Eve rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it. Apparently Brig just had to tell someone else.”

“Great. So you talked about us, but that can’t be why you’re so upset.”

“Nope.” I reach up and pop the front clasp of her bra. Her tits spring forward, and my mouth waters. Fuck, I’m not going to be able to sit here without touching her for too long.

She shrugs off her bra and squeezes her boobs together with both hands before giving them a little nipple tweak.

“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, the zipper of my jeans starting to cut into my hard-on.

“Trying to hurry you along.”

“Christ, Eve, don’t play with your nipples.”

“Mmm, but it feels so good.” Her head rolls back.

“Future!” My voice cracks. “He wanted to talk about my future. This wasn’t the first time he’s talked about it, and I know it won’t be the last. He’s not happy with my life, and he’s always trying to fix it, which just reminds me of what a loser I am, of how I’ve fallen short.” The words rush out of me so fast that I can barely remember saying them.

She lifts her head and meets my gaze. “You haven’t fallen short.”

“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

“Reid, don’t shut me out. If you’re upset, let’s talk about it.”

I groan and press my palms to my eyes, wishing I’d never started this conversation. “The last thing I want to do right now is talk about this shit—not when you’re almost completely naked on my lap.”

“Then I’ll get dressed.” She moves to pick up her clothes, and I quickly slide her down on the couch, trapping her beneath my body.

“You’re not getting fucking dressed.”

“Well, you’re not fucking me until we talk about this.”

“Why? Why the hell do you want to talk about this? It’s only going to make you want me less. Do you really think I want to talk about my shortcomings with you only wearing underwear?”

“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” she shoots back.

“No, but I do know you could be with anyone you want, and I’m just the lucky asshole who happened to hit on you at the right time during a blizzard.”

“So you admit you made the first move?” Her eyes light up.

I lean down and press a kiss against her nose. “I’m admitting to liking you a lot and not wanting to spoil that with talk about what I’m doing with my life.”

“I understand that.” She presses her hand against my cheek, and I lean into her touch. “But I’ve known you for a long time, Reid. I know all about your life. If I didn’t like it, we wouldn’t be together. So share with me, because it’s not going to change my mind about you.”

“It might.”

“It won’t,” she says fiercely. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I wish you would, but I get it. You need time to trust me.”

“What?” I furrow my brow. “I trust you, Eve. I trust you just as much as my family. I just . . . fuck.” I breathe out heavily, hating every second of this. “I don’t open up much—or at all, really. I don’t with my family, and I never really did with Eric. Emotion has always meant weakness for me—ever since culinary school, when we didn’t have time to feel emotion. Back then we were trained to just react, to feel nothing. So it’s going to take me time to adjust to opening up.”