Playing It Safe(29)

“So what’s it going to be, Julia?” he asks seductively with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” I rasp defiantly. A total lie. I know that I want him to f*ck me so hard that my eyes roll into the back of my head and I can’t walk straight for days.

“What did I tell you about lying to me? Or would you like a demonstration?”

God, yes! I would kill for a demonstration. But before I get an opportunity to test out Ass Smacking 101, he takes a couple of quick steps forward, and my back comes in contact with the wall. I don’t have time to contemplate my next move, I don’t even have time to blink, because he’s on me like white on rice.

This time … this kiss … it’s as if he’s marking me, making me his. While our tongues are dueling for supreme ruler of the French kiss universe, he confines my movements by pressing up against me so that I can feel every ripple on his lean, muscular frame. His hands roam from my face to trail down my arms until his fingers roughly grip my waist. When I feel the hard length of him at my hip, well, all sense of decorum flies out the window. My hands weave themselves into his hair and hold on for dear life as I try to get the bottom half of my body at a better angle to rub up against it.

Alex’s hands skim the sides of my hips before sliding over my ass and taking control of my body’s movements. He pushes me against his erection to help me maintain the friction I need to get off. It’s not nearly enough; I need to be flush with his cock. So I hop up and wrap my legs around his waist, and ahhhhh, there it is … perfect.

We’re full-on dry humping each other like a pair of rabid dogs in his hallway now. He gently tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth as he snakes a hand up my blouse without breaking our rhythm. When he releases my bottom lip, he moves his head back a little to stare at me with a predatory look in his eyes. That look, mark my words, is going to be the death of me, I know it.

He licks his lips before saying in a gravelly voice, “I want to watch you.”

A groan escapes my throat in response to the impending orgasm that is going to be off-the-f*cking-charts fantastic. His fingers lightly brush my stomach before making their way to the top button of my jeans. I arch my back from the wall at the contact, waiting to see what he’ll do next. I don’t have to wait long. The button is undone with an unceremonious snap, and he immediately dips the tips of his fingers inside the waistband of my jeans.


“Tell me how much you want me to make you come,” he whispers.

“Alex,” I say, almost pleading while gripping his hair so roughly that I’m sure I may have left a bald spot.

I drop my gaze to watch his hand start to dive in until it’s almost completely down my pants. Then the faintest brush of his fingers just below my navel brings reality crashing down around me as I remember what he’s going to find down there.

The granny panties.

This cannot be happening to me. I’m finally about to have what will undoubtedly be the best orgasm of my life—and not even from any kind of actual penetration, which is a feat in and of itself—and I have to stop? This freaking blows.

My hand grips his wrist that is currently shoved down my pants, and I regretfully stop his movements. “We have to stop.”

Alex looks as confused as you can imagine. We’re both still breathing hard as if we’ve just run a marathon, and his hand is mere inches away from finding out that I wax regularly. “Are you sure you want to stop?” he asks.

I answer by releasing his waist, which my legs are currently wrapped around like a vise. When my feet touch the ground again, I still have to extricate his hand out of my pants with careful precision. Because the last thing I need is to have a fingernail of his get snagged in the shitty fabric and watch in horror as it unspools when he brings his hand out for air.

Like a doctor performing surgery, I wait for his hand to release a little of the tension that I can feel within my grip before pulling it up and out of my pants. He plants both hands on either side of my head, keeping me trapped against the wall while still breathing heavily.

“This isn’t finished—you and I, it’s going to happen, Julia. You can make all the excuses you like and try to convince yourself that this isn’t a good idea, but if the last five minutes are any indication, it would be the best f*cking decision we’ve ever made.”

“Alex, I’m …”

He presses a finger against my lips to keep me from explaining. And no, I wasn’t going to tell him about the holey underwear either; I’m not that much of a moron. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him. I’m kind of at a loss for words because I do want this. I want him. But I don’t think I’m ready to throw caution to the wind just yet with him.

“Don’t apologize,” he says softly through a sexy grin. “Because I’m not sorry at all that just happened.”

“I wasn’t going to apologize,” I answer quietly with my lips brushing against his finger that is still pressed against them. “I was just going to say that it’s getting late and I should really get going so I can start working on this party you have me doing for your niece.”

He nods, and almost as if an afterthought, he says, “I want this to happen, Julia, and I know you do too. And when it does, I’m going to make you come so many times that you won’t have a chance to think about any of those ridiculous excuses you keep making up in that beautiful little head of yours.”