Page 55 of Stuck with Me

“What can I say? I’m an asshole.”

“I thoughtIwas the asshole?”

Now he’s the one who laughs. “You are. You’re also feisty and sassy. And so incredibly sexy I think I might lose my mind.”

The more I try not to smile at this only makes my lips spread wider. I try to play off my delight and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re fucking sick. Like you should probably see someone about this weird fetish of yours,” I tease.

“Woman, the more you talk like that, the more I hate you. And the more I want to punish that sassy mouth of yours,” he growls.

“Too bad you made a promise to never touch me again.”

“That is too bad. Because this hard-on is gonna go to waste.”

“I mean, you could…touch yourself,” my voice practically purrs.

“Ha,” he scoffs. “You might have no shame in getting yourself off in front of other people, but I do that shit in private.”

“Why are you so ashamed? It’s natural. Hot even.”

“It’s hot when you do it,” he says. The admittance makes my skin turn to fire.

I smirk, satisfaction blooming in my chest.

“Why don’t you do it again?” He raises his brows at me, and this shuts me up. The question hangs between us. Is it a test? “If you touch yourself, it won’t break our agreement.”

He had a point. But I wanthishands on me. I can get myself off anytime. Not only that, but my fingers are also aching to touchhim. To scrape down that firm chest of his. To grip his length.

“What do you expect me to do? Finger-bang myself?”

“You have a better solution?”

Yes, you fuck me with your fingers, is what I want to say but don’t. Because in all honesty, this was hot. Being in a situation where we both want one another but can’t touch each other is a first for me.

“Take your pants off, Kit-Kat,” he demands with a growl.

Desire pools between my thighs. Holy shit this is intense.

My first reaction is to argue. But quickly I find that I don’t want to. Iwantto do what he says.

So I do.

I close my book and unwrap myself from the blanket. Slowly, I rise from the couch and when my gaze falls on him, his is laser focused on me. Fire reflects in his brown eyes as I reach for the waistband of my leggings. I’m not usually self-conscious. But he looks at me like he wants to eat me alive. And fuck. I’m pretty sure I’d let him. Screw the agreement.

“I think I hate you a little more for making me do this.” I tug my pants down.

“I think you hate yourself. Because you know you want to do this.”

“Fuck you.” I breath out a soft laugh.

He tilts his head, and his eyes darken. “No, Kit-Kat, fuck you.”

I push my tongue into my cheek. He’s got me there.

“What now?”

“Underwear. Off.”

As I do what I’m told, sliding the cotton fabric down my legs, I don’t break my eye contact with him. His tongue sweeps out to lick his lips. He wants to touch me.

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