Page 108 of Bittersweet

The warmth of his own lips emanating and hitting mine, but not quite touching.

“Lola, this is a bad fuckin’ idea,” he says in a quiet whisper, so quiet that if my ears weren’t hyperfocused on everything he’s doing, I wouldn’t hear it.

“I know,” I say, because I do.

This might be the worst idea ever.

Ben kissing me when he’s frustrated with me is one thing. Kissing me as punishment is one thing. Letting him kiss me because my adrenaline is too high and I need to forget the world is one thing.

Letting Ben take this further in his bed, in the dead of night, while he whispers against my lips and just danced with me to old records and told me about his mother and got in bed with me because I was too afraid to sleep alone?

That’s a whole other thing.

A very dangerous thing.

“I’m gonna kiss you anyway,” he says.

My heart soars.

Relief washes over me.

“Good,” I say back in the same whisper.

And then his lips are on mine, warm and reassuring, and it’s like everything I needed to erase this shit night. If that kiss in the bakery was a balm, this one is the cure.

It’s like his kiss is a lifeline, holding me to sanity and safety.

In his arms, his lips on mine, I have never felt more at ease.

And then it deepens, his tongue reaching out to mine, and things go from sweet to fire in a second.

My leg hitches up, hooking around his hip, and his tee comes with it to rest in the crease of my waist. This leaves just a pair of boxers and a pair of underwear between where I’m already wet and where he’s getting hard.

“Fuck, Lola,” he growls, hand slipping under the band of my panties until his warm hand is grabbing bare skin.

I want him.

I need him.

I need this . . . connection to make this horrible day go away.

His fingers dig into the skin of my ass, pulling me tighter to him, and I grind, dying to get him . . . to get more.

“Stop,” he says, and I freeze. My entire body goes cold, panicking becausedoes he not want this? This thing I need to mycore?

“We need to get one thing clear, Lola,” he says, his voice full of aching need, the same need flowing through me.

No, it’s not that he doesn’t want this.

He wants itbad.

My hips move, trying to graze his hard cock again, the cock I need inside of me, the cock I haven’t had yet but I’ve had many daydreams about.

“No, Lola. Listen to me.” The hand on my hip tightens, almost painfully, but the kind of pain that flows through me in an unexpectedly heated way. “You need to know how I work.” His hand moves, goes to my chin, and tips it up until I’m looking at him. We’re still in the dark room, still lying side by side, but my eyes have adjusted to the dark now, and I can see the heat in his.

“The way I work, I make the rules.” I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “You don’t have to listen to me anywhere else, but if we do this, you’ll be a good girl and listen to me.” A shiver down my side, and his lips tip up.

Bastard.

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