Page 78 of All This Time
The gap in the door gets smaller. “I’m kind of working, Fletcher.”
“The salon is running just fine.” I put my hand on the door, prepared to press it open with force. “Now, you can either let me inside on your own, or I’m going to push my way inside. But either way, I’m coming inside and we’re talking. You decide how you want this to go.”
She folds her lips between her teeth and slowly opens the door to let me through. “Good girl,” I mutter before walking inside and waiting for her to shut the door behind me.
“Fletcher,” she starts, but I cut her off, pressing my finger to her lips as I back her up against the door. Our bodies are pressed together, allowing me to feel every curve of her, curves that are even more tempting than they were when we were younger, and a body I got up close and intimate with the other night.
But wanting Laney is so much more beyond the physical. She’s the only woman I’ve ever felt like I could be myself around, the only person that makes me want to bare my fucking soul, the only person who knows every part of me—the good and the ugly.
She’s the one who got away, but she’s not getting away from me this time—not when I know with each interaction how strong our connection still is. How, even though it’s been twelve years, being around her makes me feel just as safe and secure as I did back then.
Now I just need to convince her to give us a chance, but I know I can’t push that yet. Laney scares easily.
But Friday she let me touch her in a way I’ve never done before, so perhaps that’s what I need to explore more first.
Laney’s chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths and her pupils are dilated, making her otherwise bright green eyes appear darker. My cock grows painfully hard in just the few seconds we’ve been touching, and I don’t even bother to hide it.
“It’s my turn to talk, Laney Hart,” I say, removing my hand from her lips. Her eyes grow wider before they drop to my mouth for a split second. “Friday night, you came all over my hand in a dark corner of a bar, and then you ran off.”
She arches a brow at me. “Is that a problem?”
Technically, no. But I don’t like the way we left things.
“Nope. No problem at all, except that you’ve been avoiding me the past two days.” I drag my finger along her exposed collarbone, like I’m drawing a map across her skin.
Laney visibly swallows. “Well, I’m fine.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I feel her pulse fire rapidly under the skin along her neck. “I think you’re lying. Tell me the truth.”
“There’s nothing you need to know,” she fires back as she straightens her spine, her eyes fixated on my mouth.
“Really?” My eyes drop to her lips and the animalistic part of me I’ve been holding back comes out to play. “Well, how about we bet on it?”
Her gaze lifts to mine. “What?” she asks, her voice full of surprise.
“I bet I can make you come with my name on your lips in less than three minutes. And when I do, you’re going to answer any question I ask.”
Jesus, Fletcher. Do you honestly think that was the correct thing to say at this moment?
But instead of smacking me like I expect, she steels her gaze. “Is that so?”
“I wouldn’t put it out there if I didn’t know I could.”
“And if you don’t?”
“Then I’ll back off. I won’t push you to talk to me.”
Some might call me crazy or insane, but I know what I feel between us. And if I can use this as a way to prove it to Laney so she can stop fucking denying it, then that’s what I’m going to do.
Her jaw moves back and forth as she contemplates my challenge, but then she says something that shocks me and makes me snap at the same time. “Fine. Then prove it.”
Smashing my lips to hers, I block out the rational part of my brain that’s telling me I’m handling this situation all wrong and insteadfocus on letting out twelve years of pent-up need for this woman, consequences be damned.
If Laney truly didn’t want me, she wouldn’t have challenged me, she wouldn’t have given me permission to make her come, and she sure as hell wouldn’t be kissing me back the way that she is right now—passionately, obsessively, and full of fucking need.
Well, that makes two of us, Laney Hart.
I lift her by her hips and pin her to the door as her legs wrap around my waist. We claw at each other as I assault her mouth, controlling her tongue with my own. Her nails scrape through my hair like she can’t get close enough. I spin us around, stalking toward her desk, shoving papers aside as I set her down and reach for the clasp on her slacks. She helps me strip them off, breathing fast.
