Meet Me Halfway(85)

Ah. That made sense given the muscles I’d previously felt up. “I don’t think I ever asked, but what made you decide to rent a duplex instead of purchasing your own place?”

“I’d always lived on the Marine base in the past. I’ve never purchased a home before. Doing so felt too permanent, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay.”

I nodded, passing his couch and running my hand along the top. Fear of permanent decisions was something I could empathize with.

“Will you stay?” he asked.

Twisting to look at him, I frowned. “Like tonight or in this state in general?”

Another smirk, “The latter feels a little heavy, so let’s go with the first.”

I decided to grow a pair and ask him straight up. “Look, Garret, are you sure you want this? To cross this line? Like, I’ll understand—”

“Baby, I’ve wanted you from the second you straddled my lap and swallowed half my beer in one go. Just the image of your lips wrapped around that bottle has got me off on numerous occasions.”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “You didn’t even like me then.”

“My body knew what my head hadn’t realized yet.”

I stalled again, clasping my hands in front of me. “What if it ruins our friendship? You’ll be stuck seeing me all the time.”

“Maddie?”

I looked up hesitantly. Regardless of my rambling fears, I didn’t know what I’d do if he agreed. I wanted him. I wanted his body, his mind, his heart, all of it. I wanted him so badly I thought I’d explode without him.

“Unless you’d prefer the floor over my bed, I suggest you get your ass in my room.”





Chapter Twenty-Four





The click of the door echoed out into the silent room, reverberating through my body. I could feel each pump of my heart as it raged against its cage.

I couldn’t yet bring myself to raise my head, nervous of what I’d see in his face and how it’d compare to the way he might look at me after. Instead, I watched his bare feet slowly eat up the space between us.

“Eyes on me.”

My head snapped up, eyes locking on his with that single demand. When his voice lowered to that deep, gravelly tenor, I wasn’t sure there was a thing I could deny him. And by the smirk curling at the corner of his lips, I was fairly certain he knew it.

“There you are.”

He grazed his hand across the side of my jaw, the feel of his calluses against my skin sending butterflies loose in my stomach. He continued until his fingers reached the back of my head, tangling into the curls at my nape and gently pulling.

My head tipped up even more, throat bared to him, my mouth forced to part from the sharp angle. His other hand gripped my hip, and in one rough movement, he yanked me flush against him.

“Caveman much?” I tried to joke, resting my hands on his chest, but I could feel his hardness against my stomach, and my voice betrayed me, coming out airy and quiet.

“You’d be surprised how primal my thoughts are when it comes to you.” He lowered his head enough to brush his lips across my forehead, down my nose, pausing over my mouth.

I licked my lips, wanting to close the distance, but unable to move my head. “That sounds a little dominant.”

He still didn’t kiss me, and I swore I could feel my sanity fissuring. But then the hand on my hip relaxed its vicious grip and traveled down the curve of my ass. Slowly. Like he was memorizing the shape. “You’d like it that way, wouldn’t you?”

I couldn’t immediately form an answer, my mind zeroing in on the hand that was now tracing small circles over the fabric covering my upper thigh. “What way?”

“Rough.”

I nearly combusted. Straining my neck, I again tried to move my head forward, but he held firm, his smile growing sinful. His fingers danced back and forth across my leg, teasing me but never venturing farther up. I rotated my hips, grinding against him, seeking any form of pressure.

He tsked me, lightly pinching the inside of my thigh. “Use your words.”

I glared up, curling my fingers and digging my nails into his chest. “Yes, I’d like it rough.”

“Yeah?”

He lifted that teasing hand, slipping it past the waistband of my pants and gliding down my center with the firm pressure I needed.

“I believe it, because something tells me an independent woman like you wouldn’t appreciate being treated as though you were breakable.”

He said the words right as his fingers slid just low enough to discover the obvious arousal saturating the fabric of my panties.

A guttural groan escaped his lips a split second before they smashed against my own. It wasn’t a gentle kiss or even a heated one. He devoured me, simultaneously plunging his hand past that final barrier to press his fingers to my clit.

I bucked, my mouth parting on a moan, and he didn’t waste a second to thrust his tongue in. Using the grip on my hair, he tilted my head, placing me exactly where he wanted while lowering his fingers to slide through me.

He murmured filthy words against my lips, and I felt them everywhere, setting me even more on fire. I ground harder against him. I’d never been this close to an orgasm with someone other than myself before, and I craved the experience. I needed it, more than I needed air.