Page 52 of Accidentally Forever
“I can’t tell if you had too much to drink or too much sugar. But I don’t mind.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine. When I parted my lips for him and groaned, he deepened the kiss.
“I love frosting,” he whispered.
“I have extra for later.” From the way that Kingston grimaced as he directed Claire to his car, I realized I hadn’t whispered that.
“Let’s get you home. And that frosting.”
I narrowed my gaze at him as I tapped his shoulder with my finger. “Sweet things only stay above the waist. You know the rules.”
He buckled me into the passenger side of his SUV and chuckled. “I do. I’ll just eat your pussy for dessert if I want to go beneath the waist.” He pressed a hard kiss to my lips before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.
I must’ve dozed off, because soon I was in his arms, and he was carrying me to his bed.
“I fell asleep?”
“You were snoring.”
“I do not snore.”
“You do. But it’s okay.”
I looked around his place and frowned, confused but still happy. “I thought you said we were going home.” I didn’t mind being here. I liked Crew’s house better than mine anyway.
Something odd crossed over his face, but he sat me down on his bed. “My home. Now let’s get you naked.”
“Then you’re going to eat my pussy?” I asked.
“Not with you this drunk. You know the rules.”
“I had tons of water though,” I put in, disappointed.
“Future you will be happy with that decision.”
He pulled off my clothes, and I wiggled into his bed naked, comfy, and feeling safe. “I always feel safe with you.”
He swallowed hard as he brushed my hair from my face. “That’s damn good to hear, Aria. I know you need to brush your teeth and everything. But I just want to hold you for a while. Okay?”
“Will you get naked?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled off his shirt. But he didn’t take off his pants as he got into bed, holding me close. I couldn’t be disappointed though, not with his scent wrapping around me.
“Did you have a good day?” I asked, knowing I needed to stay awake for a little longer.
“It was okay.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, hearing the annoyance in his tone.
“Nothing.”
“Is it your parents?”
He didn’t say anything, and I let the disappointment go. If Crew wanted to talk about it, he would. I would just have to ignore the hurt that he didn’t want to share. After all, it wasn’t any of my business.
But sometimes it just reminded me that we were playing house. That at any moment this—whatever we had—could crumble.
So I leaned into his hold and told myself I was happy. That I didn’t need anything else.
But part of me knew it was a lie.
