Page 46 of Pieces Of You

She knows it.

I know it.

“Let me guess,” she says, slowly getting to her feet. “You’re going to suggest that we somehow rectify that.” There’s no inflection in her tone as she says this, glancing at the bedroom door. I assume she’s about to leave the room, the house. Instead, she walks toward me, stopping with one foot planted on either side of my legs.

Looking up at her, I throw the controller across the room and reach up for her at the same time she settles on my lap. We’re close, but with her arms held up between us, her hands on my chest, and her eyes right on mine—she’s created the distance she seems to so badly need. I settle my palms on her bare thighs, keep them there.

“Holden?” she starts, hands shifting from my chest to my shoulders, then up to the back of my head, where her fingers splay, lace through the hair there. My eyes drift shut, a strangled moan forming in my throat before I can stop it. “Do you have a God complex?”

I shake my head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

She tugs on my hair, forcing my eyes open. Then she scoots forward, just an inch, and my hands drift higher, higher.

“So you’re not just drawn to me because—”

“No.” I don’t even know what she’s talking about anymore. I can’t think straight when she’s this fucking close. Physically. Mentally. No other girl affects me the way she does, and it’s been this way for days now, ever since we kissed. It was instant—these fuckingfeelings. And pathetic, really. But no matter how much I tried to deny it, or how hard I tried to fight it, she was always there, on the forefront of my mind, wreaking havoc on all other thoughts, all other senses. It’s why I went to Esme’s this morning—to clear my head. Or maybe to somehow feel closer to her. Who the fuck knows anymore? “I’m not playing these fucking games with you, Jamie.” Her eyes widen. Just a tad. “I like you because I fucking do, and I want you because, honestly, I don’t think I have a choice.” Her hands are on my jaw now, thumbs stroking. I tilt my head, kiss the inside of her palm as if it’s something we’ve done a thousand times before. “And you have no idea what it does to me when you touch me like this.”

Eyes locked, she moves closer again until her front’s pressed to mine. She’s so warm against me, so small. Sofragile. “You know what I like about you?” she asks, pressing down on my already hard cock. The heat from between her legs floats across my flesh, and I’m so fucking done with waiting. I press my lips to her neck, parting them just enough to suck lightly at the skin there, and she moans, her hands in my hair again, fingers curled. “I like that you say exactly what’s on your mind. You’re like an open book.”

“I have nothing to hide,” I murmur against her jaw, nearing where I want to be.

Needto be.

“I’m kind of the opposite,” she says, and I fight back a smile as I pull away.

“Nah, I’ll crack you open.” I thrust up. Just once. Just so she can feel exactly what she does to me. “Starting with your spine…” I cock an eyebrow, smirking. “When I bend you over on all fours and press you down on the mattress.” And then I tighten my hold around her waist, keeping her there, right before I dramatically—andrabidly—hump the air.

She giggles into my chest—breathy—and I want to dive deep in the sound, bathe myself in it. Face pressed to my chest, she says, “You’re such an idiot.”

“Thanks.” I bust out a laugh, then drawl, “My mama says it’s part of my charm.” And then I shift the hair away from her eyes so I can see her clearer. “Honestly, I just like trying to make you laugh. It’s kind of my new favorite hobby.” And, because I’m not really into self-torture, I kiss her.

I kiss her like I’ve wanted to for days—without urgency, without motive. I kiss her because I want to. And she kisses me back, our tongues meeting, moving slowly. I sigh, like a fuckinggirl, because I had no idea how tense I was until my muscles relaxed beneath her touch.

She tilts her head back, breaking the kiss and giving me access to her neck. My fingers dig into her thighs while I kiss her collarbone, licking between sniffs—like a creep—because that’s what Jamie’s turned me into. A stalker-type creep who locks away pieces of a girl in his desk drawer.

“Tell me your stupid rules again,” Jamie pants, and she’s grinding against me, her hips moving in slow circles.

I take a second to work out what she means. “The rules don’t apply to you,” I manage to say, grabbing her ass—hard—forcing her to stop moving.

“Why not?” She actually has the audacity to sound peeved.

“Because they just don’t.” I try to kiss her again, but she pulls away.

“What if I want them to?”

“Will you shut up,” I say through a chuckle. “God, you’re frustrating.”

She laughs at that. “And yet, you still want to fuck me.”

“Oh, I want to do a hell of a lot more than just fuck you, Jamie.”

Her eyebrows rise. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she says, pulling back to grasp my jaw. “Show me yourdick activity.”

A guffaw builds in my chest, emits before I can stop it. “You’re so fucking wild.” I kiss her, just once, then settle my hands on her waist, under her shirt. “And I like you… a lot.”

I don’t know if she hears me, because she’s too busy reaching for the drawer of my nightstand. “Have you got condoms?”

I reach up, tug down on her arm. “I’m not ready for that yet,” I say and wait for her eyes to meet mine. They’re only there a second before she looks down at the space between us, where my cock stands at full attention, and obviously,yes, I’m physically ready, but mentally? “I want to take my time with you,” I admit, pushing off the bed and standing up, taking her with me. Her legs wrap around my torso, arms clinging to my neck. I move around the room, switching off the light, turning off the TV, and flicking the lamp on before pulling her limbs off me one by one, all so I can dump her unceremoniously on the bed. She lands with anoomph; her dark hair splayed on the light gray of my pillow. “Besides,” I say, crawling between her legs. “I’m convinced you’re batshit crazy, so who the fuck knows if you’ll ever let me do this again.” I remove my t-shirt before dipping my head, shifting the bottom of her top just enough that I can kiss the inch of exposed skin. Her stomach muscles shift beneath my lips, her hands finding the back of my head again. I bite down on the band of her underwear: navy, lacy, with a tiny little bow right in the middle. Then I glance up at her. “Thank God you don’t wear granny panties because that’s a whole other fetish I’m not prepared for.”

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