Page 47 of Staying for You

“Yeah,” she murmurs just before slamming her lips against mine again. She’s hungry, anxious, ready for everything I want to give her.

For the next several minutes, hours, days, I don’t know how long, we do exactly as she asked when she re-introduced herself to me. We make out like a pair of teenagers, greedy hands and a passion that seems to only grow with each swipe of the tongue. Only difference is we both know what we’re doing. Her fingers graze against my bare skin, up my stomach. Her thumb slides across my nipple and I groan.

Her touch is unassuming but the effect she has on me is anything but.

If we don’t slow down, though, we’re going to take things to the end and we haven’t had the actual discussion yet. She may have said she was going to suggest we have a friends with benefits type of thing, but I need to know that she’s ready for what we are about to pursue.

Rules.

They need to be laid out, right?

Before Ilay her out.

Wow, I’m glad I said that only in my head because that was cheesy as hell.

Slowly, I raise my head and lean back. Her eyes are still closed and lips puckered as if she’s not ready to stop kissing me either.

“Cami.” Her name comes out thick, my tongue and lips feeling swollen from the best makeout session I’ve ever been a part of.

“Owen.” My name comes out husky, and I can only hope she just participated in the best makeout session she’s ever been a part of, too.

“Believe me when I say I don’t want to, but we need to slow down. Figure it out first.”

She removes her hand from under my shirt and places them on my chest, smoothing the material of my shirt. “Owen, I thought we already established I’m good with our arrangement.”

“That may be, but don’t you think we should slow down a little? Maybe talk through… expectations?”

“As long as you live up to my expectations and I can give my vibrator a rest while I’m here, I’m on board with anything.” To drive her point home, or to torture me, she gyrates her hips, grinding down on me.

I moan, throw my head back against the couch again, and close my eyes, swallowing hard. My brain is stuck on the word vibrator and the way her body feels on top of me. Perfect. “That’s not helping, sweetheart.”

“Oh, it isn’t?” She does it again, and my head jerks up just in time to see the little minx grin mischievously. I grip her hips to stop her movement, trying my best to give her a stern look.

She giggles, raising her hands in surrender and climbing off my lap. I’m quick, though, and don’t want her too far. I drape her legs over my thighs and rest my hands on her shins. We stare at each other for a few seconds, getting control of our bodies.

“I don’t want you to think that I came down here intending to ask you for sex without the promise of anything more.”

“I know.”

“That’s not how I think of you.”

“I know.”

“You’re worth more than that. If I wasn’t The Escape and you weren’t Tennessee, things would be different. I’d take you out and get to know you before I mauled you.”

This time humor is included in her, “I know.”

“And this would be more than just afriendlything.”

Her blue eyes flare before softening, head turning to the side. She says firmly, “I know.”

I blow out a breath, relieved that she gets it.

“You’re really okay with this?”

“What is this, exactly?”

I know she’s just being playful. Wanting to hear me say the words out loud.

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