Page 62 of Meet Me in the Valley
She bites her lip before disappearing into the bathroom, and the breath I finally let out has my head falling back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
There I go again—grinning like a love-struck idiot.
Maybe I am cut out for this boyfriend thing after all.
Chapter Twenty
TIA
There’s no way to ignore the ever-growing tension hovering over our heads like a storm cloud, ready to strike us down where we stand unless we do something about it.
The faint sounds from the television and Logan’s muffled laughter are a reminder that the only thing standing between me marching out of this bathroom and kissing him stupid is this door.
Behind this door is a possibility I never saw coming. He made his intentions clear with me as soon as our eyes locked on the curb outside of the Vegas Airport.
“I’ll try. No regrets.”
Every ounce of courage I’ve tried to muster from the minute we reunited is leaving me like a sneaky leak of air from a tire. Now that the adrenaline from seeing each other is wearing off, I’m a coiled bundle of nerves.
As soon as we walked into the suite, my eyes immediately found the bed, pressed neat with white sheets and a fluffy duvet. My mind couldn’t help but warp the image of those crisp sheets suddenly twisted and rumpled. Illicit visions of my legs wrapped around Logan’s chiseled waist infiltrate every sordid crevice of my mind.
What would it feel like to have him inside of me? To share sweat, breaths, and unfiltered moans? These questions flood me, ramping up my pulse with every dirty thought I have of my best friend.
And by the flirtatious looks, quips, and energy brewing between us like a low fire, it’s only a matter of time before one of us pours kerosene over it, burning us for good.
I’ve been ready for ten minutes. I’ve applied and reapplied the mauve colored lipstick ten times over, zhushing my hair in the vanity mirror fifty different ways. Each time, it falls the same exact way it did before.
Before I went to get ready in the bathroom, I stood in front of him, sexually annoyed and frustrated in the hotel robe. I shoved two little black dresses in his face that I bought last minute from Isabel’s store, Lavender Lane. I couldn’t take my eyes off the way the muscles of his chest peeked out at the top of his shirt or how his sinewy forearms bulged out of his rolled-up sleeves, highlighted by a silver vintage Omega watch—a gift from his grandfather, he told me once. He looks too damn good in a black dress shirt with the top button undone and tailored black suit pants to match.
I practically drooled at the sight of him relaxed on the couch, arms splayed across the back with his muscular thighs spread wide, as if he were inviting me to sit down right there between his legs. That—that scared the shit out of me. The way my body instantly reacted to his. It was like this past weekend back in Oakwood Valley dialed up to a thousand.
No matter how many pep talks I gave myself earlier, uncertainty edged out my confidence.
Make a move, Tia. Do something. Do anything.
I’ve never been one to play with fire. And with my best friend? I’m practically begging to get burned. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel safe around him, because I did. Ido. I always have.But I can’t deny the warmth that settles in my core every time he looks at me. Or the unadulterated lust coursing through my veins, wreaking havoc on my heart.
So, forty minutes later, I’m still in this bathroom, nervous as shit to walk out the other side.
“I’ll try. No regrets,” I confidently chant in the mirror, angling my body just enough to appreciate the hard work pilates and jiu jitsu have done for my ass over the years.
Time to make him sweat.
I finally step into the expansive suite, my gaze instantly drawn to the floor-to-ceiling windows stretching across the entire wall. The sun is sinking just beyond the horizon, casting a golden glow over the glittering sprawl of the Las Vegas Strip.
Fortunately for me, this hotel suite is equipped with a full mini bar—and I plan to take full advantage. My nerves could use a sip of something hard. With Logan’s full attention, I saunter across the room, tantalizingly slow. Each step I take, locked in his heady gaze, fuels my confidence.
So he wants a show.
I add some hips to the mix, slinking toward the bar with a sway that screams seductive temptress.
Whatever show he was chuckling at earlier is now completely forgotten. With a quick glance over my shoulder, we make eye contact. It’s brief, but lingers long enough for me to notice his hand gripping his erection over his pants.
I can feel his gaze scorching my skin, the heat of his stare almost too hot to handle. I purposefully bend down, hinging at my waist nice and slow as I open the alcohol-stocked mini fridge.
The cool air fans my face, chest, and the tops of my breasts as soon as I open it, instantly hardening my nipples against the silk fabric of my dress, giving me a quick reprieve from the white-hot tension growing. A low groan escapes Logan’s lips, and the smilestretching across my face proves I’m a glutton for being a cock tease for him.
All these years, I’ve watched countless women with Logan. It doesn’t stop the pang in my chest at the thought, but knowing his eyes are burning into my backside as he strokes his hard-on because of me? Fuck, the power I feel because of it.
