Page 104 of Beyond the Cottage

“You’re trying my patience.”

“And you’ve exhausted mine.”

Ansel felt the words on his mouth. Somehow, his face had drifted closer to hers. Rearing back, he said, “I’m going to release your hands, and you’re going to keep them off my trousers. Understood?”

She nodded sullenly. When he let go of her wrists, her palms settled around his neck. Not ideal, but he could live with it.

“Now you’re going to unwind your legs,” he said.

“What happened to demanding I tell you what your hard-on means?”

“I let my mouth run away with me.” He gently, but firmly, pried her legs open and lowered her to the ground. “It won’t happen again.”

“Why?”

“I’ve realized it wouldn’t be prudent.” Ansel winced. Could he sound any more like a stuffy schoolmarm?

She considered a moment then sighed. “You’re worried fucking will mess with being friends.”

He nodded once, and she slumped against the wall, thoughtfully twirling a lock of hair. His ravaging hands had left it in tangles, taunting him with how it would look in the morning if they slept together.

“I get it,” she said. “I had the same thought.”

“I’m pleased we’ve made it to the same page.” Now he could show her out, stroke himself off, then go the fuck to bed. Surely, the tightness in his gut was relief?

“The thing is,” she said. “I have a theory.”

Don’t even ask, Ansel!“…What?”

“There’s sexual tension between us, right?”

He snorted. “A degree.”

“So have you considered the possibilitythatmight interfere with our friendship?”

Ansel stared, struck mute with alarm.

“The way I see it,” she said, inching closer, “we have two options. One, we can ride it out and hope it fizzles on its own.”

Alarm turned to panic—he may as well ride out a wildfire in a grass hut.

“Or.” Her fingertips brushed his chest. “We could get it out of our systems.”

Ansel’s cock nodded its approval, but their second option was more ludicrous than the first. There’d be no getting her out of his system once he fucked her. He’d want more, everything she had, until friendship wasn’t enough and he’d destroyed even that. Eventually, it would make her leave him again.

“Think about it,” she continued. “We’ve been playing with matches in a room full of dynamite. To neutralize the risk, maybe we need to let it explode.”

“Perhaps we ought to stop playing with matches.”

“Ansel,” she said, smiling, “wearethe matches.”

“In your brilliant analogy, we’d blow ourselves up.”

“Maybe.” She cheekily ran a finger up his erection. “But what a way to go.”

He grabbed her wrist. Electricity crackled where he touched her. It would beincrediblebetween them, literally explosive.

But at what cost?

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