Page 75 of Fall for Me

Chelsea

He took my hand and led me back inside, his fingers threaded through mine like he wanted to make sure I didn’t slip away. When he closed the door behind us, he locked it, sending a twinge of electricity across my skin.

“I thought you didn’t lock your doors?” I said, remembering that first night I’d shown up at his place.

His lip curled in that sexy as sin half-smile of his. “I’d rather not be disturbed right now.” That electricity inside of me started shooting sparks.

In the living room, Seamus let go of my hand to throw a couple of logs on the fire. Almost instantly, it lit up, the dry logs catching and flaming fast. It was already warm inside, but next to the fire, it was hot.

For a moment, my eye caught the hole in the wall in the kitchen, and my chest tightened. Doing this was going back on what I’d promised myself. But him doing this… risking losing his best friend.

“Seamus,” I said.

Seamus’s back was still to me, but he must have heard the hesitation in my voice, because when he closed the grate and turned back to me, I sucked in a breath at the intensity of his expression. He was only a few feet away from me, but he came forward now, until he was only inches away, the fire roaring to life behind him. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice husky.

Heat pooled in my stomach.

“Yes,” I said, breathily.

“You sure, Chelsea?”

That heat moved down, pulsing between my legs.

It was a challenge. This was his way of giving me a chance to leave. To scare me straight.

But all it did was make me want him more. Never dropping eye contact, I popped the top button of my jeans, then slowly lowered the zipper. The only sound until then was the muffled roar and crackle of the fire, and my pulse roaring in my ears. Then my zipper, deafening in the silence.

I took Seamus’s hand and slid it past the waistband of my panties, placing his hand against the soft curls up high, then drawing it to the slick wetness below.

I expected him to groan or pull his hand out so he could kiss me or slow down. Some part of me knew I was still trying to scare him off, to make it his responsibility, and I hated myself for it. But at that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted him—him—so badly, I didn’t care about anything.

Seamus didn’t flinch as his fingers met my wetness. The only sign I saw that I’d affected him was the slightest twitch of muscle in his jaw.

I wanted him to crack. I wanted to be the reason he came undone.

But he was calm. Assured.

Then he took over. He slipped two fingers inside me so quickly, and expertly, I let out a gasp. I pulled my own hand away, needing to brace myself on his shoulders while he worked his fingers inside me.

A wave of pleasure jolted through me with each stroke of his fingers.

“You can’t scare me, Chelsea.”

How did he see right through me? “I—”

But he stroked my inner walls again, and I lost my words. He wasn’t even touching my clit and I felt the pressure build. Another stroke and I moaned against him.

“Oh God, Seamus.”

At the sound of his name, he closed his eyes.

So he wasn’t invincible.

I rocked on his hand.

He pulled me toward him, kissing me hard this time, urgently. He flicked the roof of my mouth with his tongue, matching the pull of his fingers down low.

When he broke the kiss, I let out a breath, grinding my hips against him as I reached my arms up over my head. I knew he’d feel the stretch of my breasts against him; the arch of my back, and I reveled in it almost as much as the pressure building at my core.

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