Page 45 of Under Pressure

When I’m finished, she crawls her way up my body and I automatically wrap my arm around her before realizing what I’m doing. I don’t cuddle. That’s not what this is between us.

I sit up instead and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “That was…” Amazing. Unbelievable. Life-altering. “That was pretty good considering—” I pause, a whiff of something hitting my nose that’s not right. “Do you smell that?”

I glance back at her and she sits up, pursing her lips for a moment before gasping, her hands fluttering in front of her. “Oh my God, the cupcakes!”

She jumps off the bed and flings open the door, still naked, and rushes to the kitchen to slip on two oven mitts and open the oven door. Smoke seeps out, which instantly sets the smoke detector to blaring.

I grab the dirty dish towel from earlier off the counter and wave it in front of the alarm to try and clear the smoke while she takes the two tins out, the normal golden hue of the dessert now an ugly, scorched brown.

When the alarm finally stops, we just look at each other until she cracks a smile. “You’d make a good bullfighter.”

“What?” I’m having a hard time focusing on anything other than her naked body.

“With the towel. You know,Olé!” She mimes waving a flag in front of a bull, and for the first time, I notice the dish towel in my hand is red.

A burst of laughter escapes me at the absurdity of the situation, both of us nude in the kitchen while chaos surrounds us. She giggles in response, the two of us feeding off each other’s laughter until we’re braced against the counter, tears in our eyes.

God, I haven’t laughed like this in… I don’t know how long. If ever.

She finally straightens, taking off the oven mitts, and gives me a quick peck on the lips before heading back to her room. Something about the action has me stiffening. The easiness of it, the nonchalance. Even after what we just shared, do we kiss like that now? Like two people comfortable with each other?

Haven’t I done the same to her in the lab, though?

I glance behind me, watching her walk away, that perfect ass bouncing with each step, her curls falling in a waterfall down her back.

Do I want her to kiss me like that? Not that there was any emotion behind it, but that almost makes it worse. She isn’t my girlfriend to just casually kiss anytime. But really, what’s the harm in it? I’ll let her suck my dick but not kiss me on the lips when we’re out of bed? This isn’t somePretty Womanscenario.

I sigh, finally settling on the fact that since we’re both naked, it’s okay to still act sexual with one another.

She comes out of her room, dressed in black leggings and an oversized green sweater. “Are you going to stay like that the whole time?” She grins. “Not that I’m complaining.”

I glance down at myself. “Oh, yeah.” I scoot past her, and before I can second-guess myself, grab her around the waist and kiss her. I’m still naked, so it’s okay. “You’re better than you think you are in bed.”

She flushes slightly, a relaxed smile crossing her face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

I grin. “That’s an understatement.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?” She brings her hands up to cup my face, kissing me lightly. “But with good reason to be.”

She steps away, grabbing her backpack off the tiny dining room table. “Did you still want to study?”

See, she’s already out of sex mode. She’s not trying to make more out of it than what it is. “Yeah, give me a sec.” I go back in the room and change, glancing at the rumpled bedspread, still hearing her sighs, her moans, feeling how she pulled my hair, writhed underneath me. How she sucked me dry, her mouth on me more exciting than any girl I can remember in a long time.

“Tyler?” she calls from the living room. I startle, unsure how long I’ve been standing here looking at the bed.

I turn around and join her, shaking off whatever it was that settled over me.

Chapter Thirteen

Mia

“I feellike I haven’t seen you in forever.” Adelaide hugs me tightly, then takes a seat on the other side of the booth. “How long has it been?”

“I think since Halloween. At that party.” I take my own seat at the small coffee shop she chose to meet up at, The Bluesy Bean, and place my muffin and drink on the table.

“That’s right. You were dancing with that guy. What was his costume? Batman? Spiderman?”

“Superman,” I mumble, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

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