Foreplay (The Ivy Chronicles #1)(57)

I rose up over him and smiled. “You had a plan?”

He moved his arm from his face and peered up at me. He tucked a strand of hair back behind my ear. “With you nothing seems to go according to plan.”

Still smiling, I rose to my feet. Snatching up a hand towel, I tossed it to him and then got one for myself.

He wiped himself clean. Standing in my unzipped jeans, I felt some of my earlier embarrassment creep back in. Opening the door to my closet, I picked out a T-shirt and shrugged into it. I stood there then, shifting on my feet and playing with the hem of my shirt, unsure what to do next.

He sat up on the edge of my bed. He hadn’t bothered to put his jeans back on. Clad only in his boxer briefs, he was the embodiment of sex. Gold-skinned. Lean and cut. His six-pack was more like an eight-pack. Ridiculous. The tattoo crawling up his arm and down the side of his torso was the cherry on top of it all.

I swallowed against my suddenly dry throat. “What now?”

“Well. If this was just a fling, we’d say good-bye at this point.”

“Oh.” I nodded. But this wasn’t a fling. It was less than that. It was us pretending. Playing at something more.

He settled a hand on his knee and studied me in that unnerving way of his. “Do you want me to stay over?”

“Do you want to stay?”

The crooked smile reappeared. “If you want me here, say it. That’s what would happen if this were more than a fling. If we were really into each other.”

If we were really into each other. The words jarred me. Stung a little with the taste of him still fresh on my lips. But it was a necessary reminder that this was fake.

I inhaled. “Yeah. Then you should spend the night. Yes.”

I told myself to be confident. After what we just did—what I just did—it shouldn’t be that hard.

“You don’t sound too excited. Remember, not such a turn-on.”

I needed to approach this clinically. This wasn’t personal. It was an experiment. He was a hot, experienced guy offering to guide me through the art of foreplay. I already felt more knowledgeable. I could kiss adequately now. I could do more than kiss now. I might not be a master of foreplay, but I was more than capable. Thanks to Reece I was ready for Hunter. My belly clenched thinking about that, wondering if I would like making out with Hunter half as much.

I gathered my night bag from the shelf by my closet with shaking hands, rattled by the realization that I was enjoying my time with Reece far too much. I was enjoying him. This had not been the plan. “I’ll be right back.”

I dove across the hall and washed my face and brushed my teeth, scrubbing until I tasted the coppery tang of blood in my mouth. Stopping, I rinsed my mouth out. Lifting my face, I stared at my reflection, marveling at this girl I had become. Someone about to share her bed with a guy who wasn’t Hunter. It was hard to conceive.

When I entered the room, he was under the covers, looking relaxed with one arm tucked under his head. I turned out the lamp, plunging the room into a wash of gray. The light creeping in through the blinds saved us from total blackness.

I kicked off my jeans. He held back the covers for me, and the shadow of his lean body looked so delicious and inviting against the stripes of my sheets.

I slipped in beside him. A sigh escaped me as he pulled me flush with his body, spooning me. The warm, smooth skin wakened my nerves all over again. His maleness, his size, his strength made my breath shaky.

Electricity buzzed along my nerves. Those parts of me that were heavy with aching a little while ago warmed back up all over again.

His arm wrapped around my waist, his hand resting on my stomach. He pulled away for a second to gather my hair and drape it over my shoulder so it wasn’t in his mouth. I felt his breath on the back of my neck. God. The aching was back. I squeezed my thighs together as if I could assuage it. How was I supposed to sleep?

“This Hunter guy—” he started.

“Yes?” I asked in a small voice.

“If he runs out after you mess around, then it doesn’t mean anything to him. You don’t. Understand?”

I winced, reminded that I had done that to him the other night. “I’m sorry that I—”

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad for bailing that first night, Pepper. I’m just telling you because I don’t want some guy, Hunter or anyone, to ever use you.”

His breath fanned my nape. I knew his lips were close. Unable to help myself, I rolled onto my side and studied him in the gloom, our noses practically touching.

“Thanks for doing this.” I almost added “thanks for caring,” but that might be assuming too much. I swallowed those words back.

He laughed lightly. “I’m not totally selfless here, Pepper. I enjoy you. Clearly.” His hand brushed my cheek, the fingertips a soft graze. Flutters erupted in my belly. My cheeks burned hotter thinking about my hand wrapped around him.

“I enjoy you, too.” I kissed him then, and this time it was different, slow and sweet and tender. Of course it didn’t stay that way. None of our kisses ever did. It built, deepened. Blood rushed in my ears. I cupped his face and wrapped an arm around his neck, aligning my body to his. After a moment, we broke for air.

Panting, he rested his forehead against mine. “We should try to get some sleep.”

I laughed a little at that. Sleep wasn’t happening. At least I couldn’t see how.