Page 87 of A Pizza My Heart

This is killing him, and it’s killing me too.

“Do you feel my fingers on your body?”

He kisses my neck again.

“My lips against your soft-as-sin skin?”

He shifts, his knee pressing harder against my clit, and I push into him, needing more of what he’s offering.

“Do you feel the way I fit against you?”

He presses his lips to mine again, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth for a moment before pulling away.

“What do you feel, Wren?” he whispers.

Confused. Consumed. Longing. Apprehension. Timorous.

I feel so many things.

Him. Me. Us.

I feel…

“Everything.”

Slice Fourteen

Foster

Despite being only twenty-six, I’ve had a lot of hardships in my life.

That said, I have never struggled with anything more than I did when I had to drop Wren off at her house and walk away.

It’s been two days and I still can’t stop thinking about our night spent in the bed of my beat-up truck. The way her body responded to mine. Her soft gasps. Her moans. The pure fucking want in her eyes.

Her whispered pleas when she fell apart beneath me.

The moment she gave in to whatever it is we’re getting ourselves into.

It’s all been running through my mind nonstop.

Having to work next to her every night? Pure fucking torture. We’ve been trying to play things cool, but there’s been no mistaking the shift in our interactions with one another.

Which is probably why Drew’s cornered me in the back office as I write down my availability for Simon.

“Did you two bang?”

“Do you have any sort of filter? Like at all? Any ounce of restraint on the words that fly out of your mouth?”

“No?” She wrinkles her nose. “What’s the fun in that?” She waves a hand. “Never mind. That’s not the question I’m wanting an answer for. Did you two bang?”

“What did Wren tell you?”

“Nothing. Hence why I’m asking you.”

“She really didn’t say anything?”

“Not a peep.”