Page 19 of The Girlfriend Zone

He fiddles with my bra strap. “In case it’s not clear, you’ve got me. You’ve got all my attention, Leighton.” He pauses and licks his lips. “I’m just alittleinto you.”

He drags out that word, tone dry, making his meaning clear.

He’sa lotinto me.

“Show me,” I say.

Tilting his head, he studies my face, then says, “If you insist.”

His fingers travel to the hollow of my throat tracing it, drawing a circle over it, before he brushes them along my jawline, dragging them there. My breath hitches from the firm touch. From the sheer different-ness of it. Has anyone ever touched me like this before? I don’t think so. It’s so specific, so purposeful. It’s like he’s finding ways to touch me that areonlyfor me.

Like his hands are telling me how he doesn’t need to thread his fingers through my hair to turn me on. He’ll find other ways to arouse me, and since I’m ludicrously wet, he has. But I know, too, that he’s holding back. I can see his restraint in the tension in his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw.

I’m going to have to take the next step. Say the next thing.

“When I saidyou, I meant I wantallof you,” I add. That’s clear enough, but just in case it wasn’t, I press my body even closer so I’m rubbing against the outline of his erection. Making my intentions crystal clear.

For a hot second, his eyes go glassy. His breath stutters. But then he gains control again.

“All of me?” he asks like it’s a question, even though it’s an amusedme, as if he’s having too much fun with my words as he keeps one hand looped firmly around my waist. “How exactly do you want all of me?”

Oh my god. He’s toying with me.

I groan in mock frustration. “You want me to spell it out?”

“I do, Leighton,” he rasps out. “I really, really do.”

I roll my eyes, but it’s doing little to mask how turnedon I am. “Fine—then here’s an opinion for you.” I pause, letting him hang there on my every word as I run a hand down his chest, over the buttons on his shirt. I lift my chin, look him in the eyes. “I want you to fuck me hard. And a little rough.”

Something in his eyes seems to snap, a tight wire breaking as he scoops me up without warning. “I’m going to fuck you exactly the way you want, Shutterbug.”

“Oh,” I say, blinking as he grabs my ass nice and tight and sets me down on the chaise behind us. He lays me on it, climbs over me. Grabbing my wrists, he pins them over my head and lowers his body to mine. This time it’s just us. No record of the moment as I let the remote fall from my hand.

The weight of him is extraordinary. He grinds against me and I pant. I thread my fingers through his messy hair while I drag my other hand down his arm. He’s so outrageously fit, I can’t stand it. The strength of his arms, the size of his chest, the way he covers me.

I seriously can’t wait to take off his clothes. I’m vibrating with desire.

I wrap my legs around him, hooking them at his ass—the muscles in it tell me he doesn’t miss glutes day. I want to send a thank you note to his gym membership.

“Seems like you’re more than alittleinto me,” I say dryly.

“Yeah, a fucking lot,” he says, then kisses me till I’m clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off.

He wrenches away, sits up, then undoes the buttons in no time. I tug off my top. I’m just in my black bra again, and like that I stare at this thoughtful, considerate, passionate man in a whole new way. He’s no longer the subject of my photographs. I’m not looking at himthrough a lens. I’m free to gaze at him in a fresh new way. I lift a hand, stroke his face, memorizing the whiskery scratch of his stubble before I say, “Fuck me now, Miles.”

He offers me his hand and tugs me up. “Go on a second date with me.”

A laugh bursts from me. “You already asked me out for a second date. Did you forget?”

“I’m making sure.”

“Are you worried you won’t be any good in bed, so you need to secure that second date now?” I tease.

His eyes darken. “For that, you’re getting multiple orgasms.”

“Lucky me,” I say.

“No. Lucky me.”

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