Page 47 of Ours to Lose
“Gabe?”
I lifted my gaze, breath catching at how fucking gorgeous she was.
“Can we start tonight?”
I was fully hard again. My hands nearly shot across the couch of their own free will. I blew out a slow, steadying breath. “One more thing first.”
Her gaze held mine, her hazel eyes dark pools reflecting the glowing lights. My skin buzzed, and I shifted in my seat, not used to her seeing so much. To her being able to read my body in addition to my words.
I might not have liked it, except I got to see as much of her. To catch the lift of her lips as she studied me. To witness rather than imagine if I made her blush or laugh. It helped me voice my last condition.
“You’re the one in control,” I said. “You take the lead and set the pace. You tell me what you want, what you like, what you don’t. You tell me when you’re done. No hard feelings, no awkwardness after. Just be open with me. I need that.”
It wasn’t that I didn’twantto take the lead. It was that with her, I knew I’d take too much. There was no way for me not to be selfish with her or to not always want more when I shouldn’t have even taken what she’d already given me. I needed the scales to stay in her favor if I had any hope of not hating myself when this was over.
More than I already did.
Instead of saying anything, she moved the pillow from her lap and scooted my way, her initiative easing my own tight nerves. Her thigh brushed along mine, and we both seemed to still at the contact.
Not accidental. Not fleeting.
A precursor to every touch that would follow, and neither of us had to pretend we didn’t want it.
She released a shaky breath as she met my gaze. “Now what?”
My pulse picked up the way it had sitting beside her in the restaurant booth. Like we were in high school, and I was about to have my first kiss.
“That’s up to you. What do you want to happen?”
Her face grew shy, that flush climbing her neck. “I don’t know where to start.”
She was willing to take the lead, but she needed me to guide her. I could do that. I licked my lips. “I could tell you what I wanted to do to you at the restaurant.”
Her eyes widened. “You were thinking about it then?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Torturing myself, more like. “You do this thing where you bite your lip when you’re deciding something, like which dish to try next. Every single time, I wanted to take that lip between my teeth and tug.”
I imagined doing it between bites too. Tasting the dishes off her lips instead of the plate. Letting her enjoy the food while I enjoyed her.
Her words came out breathless. “I was thinking about stuff too.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded, her hazel eyes glued to mine like she couldn’t move them away. As if she was as hypnotized by me as I was by her.
“Tell me,” I rasped.
“Mostly you touching me. Your hand on my leg.”
As if being pulled by a string, I bent to skim my hand along her calf. “You mean here?”
She bit back her smile and shook her head. “Higher.”
The tips of my fingers burned on their way up her leg. I flexed my hand over her knee before trailing it to the hem of her dress. “Here?”
She squirmed the tiniest bit as if trying to stay still. “Higher.”
My body pounded with my pulse as I dipped my hand below her skirt. Just an inch. Just so I could watch it disappear and feel the heat of her skin beneath the material. And when that wasn’t enough, I slid higher, fitting my fingers over the curve of her thigh, following the soft bend to where her legs met. Her breath sawed in and out as I traced the crease of her hip.
