Page 17 of Imagine Me and You

He pressed a kiss to the rounded curved of her breast, traced the edge of her bra with the tip of his tongue. She whimpered, holding his head to her. So good. So incredibly good.

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She pushed it down her shoulders. He pulled her up against him and claimed her mouth again, his chest hair rough against her nipples. She arched her back, increasing the friction, deepening their kiss.

He swept her up into his arms and stepped into the bathtub in his jeans and bare feet, her with her jeans still on, then set her down in the water, never breaking their kiss as he settled between her thighs.

He kept kissing her, and she moved against him, using the seam of her jeans and his erection to chase the release that was close. So close. So very, very close.

Jace kissed her neck again. She gripped his belt loops, urging him to move against her harder, faster. She locked her legs over his, the wet denim heavy and scratchy on her skin. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but this. But the way Jace made her feel.

He put his hand underneath, on her lower back, pushing her up more tightly against him, increasing his movements. Harder. Faster. Yes.Yes.

He bent his head and ran the flat of his tongue over her nipple, then sucked her deep into his mouth. Her orgasm rushed over her. She held on to his shoulders, a hoarse cry escapingher lips, as her mind went blank and she surrendered herself. Utterly, completely.

Jace bucked against her, once, twice, then buried his face in her neck, his body stiffening as he found his own release.

Six

Suddenly,reality shot back into focus. And Sam was very aware of the fact that she was in wet jeans. That the water was still running. That she was half-naked in the arms of her best friend after having dry-humped...well, wet-humped maybe was the better term, all things considered. Whatever.

Gut-wrenching regret and humiliation were all the same no matter what you called the thing that brought them about.

She pulled away from him slowly, her eyes locked shut. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want him to see her. She wanted to sink beneath the water and hide until Jace left the room.

But she was frozen. Completely.

Jace was the one who moved first.

He stood, water pitching around them, splashing over her bare stomach, up to her breasts. She managed to open her eyes and look up at him. His jeans were molded to his legs, to the bulge right behind his zipper. Droplets ran down his chest. And up higher...up higher was what she really didn’t want to see.

His eyes were shadowed, his jaw set. At his sides, his hands were clenched. He didn’t look happy, that was for sure.

Well, she wasn’t all that happy either. Considering the release she’d just had, she was battling between horror, anger at herself, anger at him and a sweet sort of languor that made her feel boneless and warm and wonderful. It didn’t make any sense that satisfaction and terror could exist side by side.

But right now they did. Her body was all happy and smoking a cigarette. Her mind was completely freaking out.

It was quiet in the bathroom now. Except for the water that was still running. Cold now, and she was still in it as it got higher.

Awkward silence had passed to devastating silence, and they were just sort of staring at each other, letting it get worse.

Hell. It couldn’t get worse. Could it get worse?

It was getting worse. He was still standing there, staring at her. And she was just staring at him. And she felt like she was looking at a stranger. Because was it really Jace who had taken her to heaven like that? Her best friend, the man she’d known since she was sixteen?

Yes. Yes, it had been.

And now, after speaking millions upon millions of words to the man with total ease over the course of the past fourteen years, she couldn’t think of one to say after getting a mind-bending orgasm from him.

Not one.

Except maybe...

“Thanks.”

“What?”

He didn’t look happy that that was the word she’d said. Damn. Bad choice. Yes, judging by the stormy look in his dark eyes, it had been a bad choice.

“I don’t know,” she said, sitting up, suddenly so embarrassed she thought she might die of it. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Idon’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know.” She climbed out of the tub, her jeans stuck tight to her legs, and scrambled for her shirt.

---