Page 160 of The Friend Situation

“No,” she admits, her tone serious, but her eyes betray her. “I want under your skin too.”

“You’re already there,” I say, wearing a cocky-as-fuck grin.

Carlee tries to kiss me, but I only barely brush my lips against hers. Her frustration with me simmers just below the surface.

“Are you going to deny yourself me the rest of the day?” she asks, grabbing my shirt, desperately clenching the fabric in her fists.

“Maybe,” I reply with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the tension building between us. “I might let it go on for a week.”

The flash in her eyes and the blush creeping to her cheeks tell me everything I need to know. She enjoys this more than she’ll ever admit.

“You want me begging,” she whispers. It’s almost desperate.

“You wanted to play games, gorgeous. So, we’re fucking playing.”

The plane waitsfor us as we get out of the car. Carlee stops mid-stride, her eyes widening as she gazes over the jet, taking in every polished detail. She studies the Calloway Diamonds logo on the tail, and when she meets my eyes, I can’t help but smirk.

“I can’t believe this,” she whispers as I place my hand on the small of her back.

“You should,” I say as we board the aircraft.

I guide her to the window seat, wanting to experience everything with her.

She curiously glances.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, intrigued by the emotions that cross her face.

“Mile-High Club?” she suggests, blushing, a grin spreading as she runs her fingers through her hair, attempting to deflect attention.

“Are you a member?” I ask, my brows rising.

“Notyet,” she admits.

Her eyes lock on to mine. It’s a challenge.

I lean in and whisper in her ear, “So fucking tempting. But we’re still playing unless you’re giving in.”

Soon, we’re speeding down the runway, the wings lift, and then we’re soaring. Carlee looks out the window, her eyes wide with astonishment as we curve around the city, revealing a breathtaking view of Manhattan. The sun glimmers off the river, casting glittery reflections across the water.

“I love New York,” she whispers, pure wonder in hertone, “so much.”

I catch a glimpse of another smile I’m not supposed to see. My heart skips a beat, and I snap the moment to memory right next to the other one. She turns to me, and the eye contact is intense. It holds us both in a prison of unspoken connection.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

I remember holding her last night as she drifted to sleep, how her smile lit up the room at breakfast, and how she’s looking at me right now.

“Me too,” I confess, smiling brightly. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Carlee removes her laptop from her bag, and I hold on to the magic happening between us.

I smile. “Such a good girl.”

“Don’t start something you don’t plan on finishing, Calloway,” she says matter-of-factly. Leaning in, she whispers in my ear, “My panties are already drenched.”

The warmth of her breath sends a thrill through me.

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