Page 95 of Not That Complicated

He was watching me.

I watched him back. I watched in utter fascination as his cheeks flushed, making his hazel eyes stand out all the brighter. His breathing changed. It didn’t get faster. It grew deeper, more controlled. The knuckles around the water glass turned white.

Very slowly, I put my fork down. I self-consciously licked my lips as I stood up. I walked around to the other side of the table, and stepped over his outstretched legs to straddle him standing up. He tipped his head back with a faint smile.

Right.

That was my move. I’d thought Adam would take it from there.

I dipped in an awkward squat, aiming for his lap, or planning on it, but I failed to commit. I sort of lurched at him then straightened again. I’d fit on his lap, but I’d probably knock the pair of us over, and while I didn’t have anything against having sex on the floor usually, I—

I sucked in a sharp breath when his hands went to the back of my thighs and travelled up to cup my hips. Holding me steady, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my stomach, eyes on my face.

I bumped my hips forward reflexively. “Oh,” I said, “Sorry.”

He shook his head at me, used the hands on my hips to turn me around, then pulled me down to sit on his lap, my back to his chest. Before I really registered the position, he hooked my legs to the outsides of his, then spread his thighs. Just enough to open me up and put me off-balance. An arm came around my waist and crossed up and over my chest, pressing me into him.

“Guess what we’re going to do now,” he breathed in my ear, then bit my earlobe.

I squirmed. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious,” I said. I was shooting for nonchalant. I missed it. By a mile.

Adam guided my head to the side and pressed his open mouth to my neck. He hummed. The vibration sent a shiver rippling through me. My toes curled in my socks. “We’re going to talk.”

“Okay,” I said. “Not what I thought.” I tugged at his arm. He tightened it. “Probably for the best. I’ve never had chair sex before. It’s on my bucket list of course, but...yeah. I think this is the wrong kind of chair. And floor. It’s hardwood. A softer landing would be a good idea, in case of...in case of accidents. Topplings and whatnots. And stuff.”

Adam’s lips continued to play over my neck. He threaded his fingers into my hair and slowly, gently, drew my head back. He licked over my Adam’s apple. I made some ungodly noise that he seemed to like; he flexed beneath me.

“I want to have sex with you Ray. I think that’s obvious. I’ve wanted it for a long time. I think that’s obvious, too.”

“Yes. Mostly inexplicable. But also obvious.” Eventually obvious, I should have said.

His arm tightened again. “Now why’d you have to go and say something like that?”

“Huh?”

He set his teeth in my neck and bit lightly. “Why would you say inexplicable?”

I snorted. “Come on.”

“Youcome on. Why?”

My cheeks began to heat with embarrassment. “You know, in case you were wondering, I’m not into humiliation and general—” my hands flailed in the air before us, “—awkwardness. Thanks all the same.”

He caught my hands, twined our fingers then crossed our arms over my chest. I was immobilised. “I’ve got an excellent idea of what you’re into, Ray,” Adam said, and leaned into me until I was bending at the waist and tipped forward on his lap.

“Not cutlery,” I muttered.

He sucked a kiss to the very base of my neck and held me off-balance as he said, “I’d never try to humiliate you. I know you’re sensitive.”

I gave an outraged gasp.

He hauled me upright and kissed me fiercely, even at the uncomfortable angle. “You’re sensitive,” he said against my mouth. “I love that about you, okay?”

Was I sensitive?

Fraser used to call me touchy and irritable and hard to please. My dad always called me emotional and told me I took things too seriously, he wasjokingabout my hair, Ray, stop overreacting. Giselle…well, she was always calling me artistic.

“Fine,” I said. “I’m difficult and you’re into it, weirdo—mmph.” He kissed me harder.

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