Page 62 of Wright Kind of Trouble

It didn’t change everything when we returned. And somehow, I couldn’t care. I could only remember the way he’d licked ice cream off of his thumb, desire in his eyes while they were on mine.

But we were out of time. He had to take me home. He was here to see his friend. I didn’t know what I was going to do if I didn’t take this opportunity.

We were in the parking garage before I plucked up the courage to ask, “What is this?”

He stopped. “What do you mean?”

“You’re holding my hand.”

“Should I not?”

I shook my head. “I just…what are we doing? I threw myself at you at Halloween, and you turned me down. You don’t even want me. I just…”

But whatever had come out of my mouth was wrong. So wrong.

I watched his eyes flash with fury at the suggestion. Then, he was backing me up. I took a step back and then another, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled. “The fuck I don’t.”

My back was against the wall of the garage. The darkness enveloping around us, tucking us safely away from any onlookers.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“I think you must not remember what happened on Halloween,” he said, his hands sliding over my hips to my waist and then up my sides. “I could barely fucking contain myself around you. I only stopped because you were not sober enough to consent.”

“I…I…yes.”

His hands pushed up into my hair. My body went limp as he took command of me. “I’ve wanted you so fucking bad every single fucking day since.”

“Please,” I begged.

There was no restraint left. No room for thought. Just his lips crushing against mine. His tongue in my mouth. His hands pushing my dress up to my hips.

I fumbled with his belt, ripping it open to get to him. Then, his cock was in my hand. He groaned into my mouth. All the buildup from restraining ourselves all this time came forcefully to a head.

“Need to be inside of you,” he said.

“God, yes.”

Then, he lifted me by my thighs. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on to his shoulders. He angled our bodies together and then thrust home.

My head fell backward against the hard concrete as a cry escaped my lips. Fucking hell. This was what I’d been missing. What I’d wanted for so fucking long. It didn’t matter how much time had passed since I’d been with him; I’d never forget the wild weekend we’d shared two years ago.

Though I’d wanted nothing more than this, I’d honestly never thought it would happen again. We’d been talking on and off for a year. I couldn’t have gotten any more blatant than I had on my birthday. But my brain must have scrambled it all up. I’d sworn he was over it. That it had just been…him being nice. That I was the one still pining.

I’d gotten flirty from him in London when we had the time difference lined up to chat. But it wasn’t until I saw the fire in his eyes that I knew.

He’d been holding himself back.

He wanted me just as fucking bad as I wanted him.

His mouth covered mine as I came on his cock. He barely made it a handful of more thrusts before finishing inside of me. Our chests heaved. His forehead fell against mine.

And as we came down from the incredible high, I knew that I was ruined.

I’d wait.

I’d keep waiting.

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