Page 67 of That Friendzone Feeling
Mybody makes the decision for me.Beforemy brain can process the question,Isink into him, against his warm, welcoming, strong body, and give myself to him completely.
Thisis the worst business decision of my life.Butmy body thinks it’s the greatest brain waveI’veever had.Everyinch of my skin buzzes with life, hope, and desire.
Ourtongues find each other quickly, searching and desperate from the heat of the fight.Walker’shands are on my butt, holding my hips tight to his.Butthen he switches gear, pulls back, loosens his grip, and plants butterfly kisses around the outline of my mouth.
“Youneed to stop saying this is wrong,” he says between kisses.
Ipush my fingers through his thick hair and grab two fistfuls. “Itis, though.”
“Doesit feel wrong?” he asks, his mouth working its way along my jawline and down my neck.
“Doeswrong feel tingly all over?Andlike ifIdon’t get my hands in your pants in the next thirty secondsImight die?”
“Oh, yeah.”Hechuckles against my neck, sending a shiver down my side and making me curve into him. “That’sexactly what wrong feels like.Andalso like howI’mdesperate to touch you under your clothes.”
Hiswords are like a firecracker to my already throbbing core. “Sowrong.Iwouldn’t want you to do that.Idon’t want that very much.”
Hestraightens and looks down at me.Myhands fall from his hair and land on his broad shoulders.
“I’mconfused by the double negatives,” he says with a glint in his eye. “ButcouldIplease accompany you to your bedroom?”
“Iabsolutely don’t want you to not do that.”
Hepulls a thinking face. “I’mpretty sure that’s a yes.”
Hebends and wraps an arm around the backs of my knees.Igasp as he whisks me off the floor and cradles me in his arms.
Walker’salways known what he wants.Butuntil these last few minutes,Idon’t thinkIhad any idea exactly how much he wants me.Theway he’s come for me tonight—right for me, with purpose and passion—he seems so sure, so certain this is right.
Hecarries me toward my bedroom.
“AndI’mnot giving you time to change your mind,” he says, an unfamiliar huskiness in his voice.
Thestrength of his arms and his desire for me is the biggest turn-onI’veever known.
Hissmile as he drops me onto the bed fills my heart.I’venever seen him this happy.Andit’s me who’s making him this happy.Whichis quite a responsibility.ButI, too, have a taste of what joy a life with him could be.
Theselast few weeks, asI’vebeen suppressing everythingI’vefelt since theNewYear’sEvekiss, which only got harder after the workbench incident,I’vebeen at an all-time high on the irritable and grumpy scale.
Soit seems that here, in this moment,WalkerandIare making each other happier than either of us has been for anincredibly long time.Thathas to be a good thing, right?AndsomethingIshouldn’t so easily discount.
“Actually, don’t lie there,”Walkersays, taking my hand and pulling me up. “Iintend to start by doing exactly whatIwanted to do whenIunstuck your dress zipper last week.”
Ijump to my feet right in front of him and run my finger down his nose. “Youhave no idea how muchIwanted you to take that damn thing off me.”
“Well, if it’s anywhere near as much asIwanted to take it off, thenItotally know.”
Heplaces his hands on my hips and gently turns me around.
“Oh, yes,” he whispers as he releases the zipper at the base of my neck. “Nowlet me show you whatIwas thinking.”
Hepulls the tab down a couple of inches, then the warmth of his mouth is at the top of my spine.Goosebumpsradiate up into my hairline and across my shoulders from the touch of his lips.
Anothercouple of inches of the zipper undone, another kiss lower on my spine.Ashiver of desire runs through me and finds its home at my center.
Iclose my eyes and hang my head. “Ifyou’d done this the other night,Iwould have run away.”
Inchby inch the zipper opens, andWalkerplants his lips on every bit of newly revealed flesh. “Why?” he breathes against my skin.
