Page 41 of Better Not Pout
“I’m guessing yeah, it does.”
The pieces are coming together now. The T-shirt, the comments she’s made about herself that I wouldn’t have thought anything of until now, what she said on the carriage ride that night. How she refused to eat that first night she came to the house.
Next time I see him, I might have to show him what it’s like when a retired hockey player who was known for being rough on the ice puts their fist into his face.
“It’s notjusthim.” Her voice is barely above a whisper as she stares back at me with endless eyes, my thumb sweeping a path absentmindedly at the edge of her jaw. I should let go, sit back, keep my hands to myself, but I’m not.
Because I want to touch her. I want to be close to her.
“I’ve always been a bigger girl. I was made fun of growing up, and it seemed like Bradley simply played heavily into insecurities that were deep-rooted and already there. Sometimes I couldn’t even believe that he chose me. I always felt like he was way too attractive to be with a girl like me.”
“Bullshit,” I spit, unable to stop the word from spewing out of my mouth. “That fucker never deserved to lay a single goddamn finger on you, Rosalie. It’s you that was too good for him. And you know what? It’s good that he fucked up and lost you because then I never would’ve had the chance to make you mine, Sugar. You are beautiful. The most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Without a doubt, without question. I love your body.”
Her lips part, and her mouth falls open slightly, causing my mouth to twitch. She likes that nickname more than she wants to let on. “You areperfect. Every inch of you. And if you’ll let me, I want you to give me the chance to prove it to you.”
fifteen
. . .
Rosalie
Hot Tub—Hotter Fake Boyfriend
“You don’t haveto say that, Wells. It’s o—” I start, but immediately, he silences me with the pad of his finger against my lips and a firm shake of his head.
“I don’t say anything that I don’t mean. I’m telling you that I am so fucking attracted to you, and I’ve wanted you…this. The things I want to do to your delectable, perfect body since the first day I saw you, Rosalie. The only reason I haven’t is because I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for.” His palm slides from my jaw, down my neck to my nape, where his fingers curl and he pulls me even closer. I can feel his warm breath caressing my lips from how close he is. Almost touching mine, but far enough away that I want to beg for him to kiss me.
I’m not sure he even realizes the effect that he has on me, on my body in question, but it feels magnetic. As if we’redrawn together. And even with the mountain of reasons why we shouldn’t, it can’t keep us apart.
I suck in a breath as his amber-colored eyes darken when they drop to my chest, and I follow the same path, suddenly aware of how the fabric of my shirt is plastered against my skin.
His warm, heated gaze roams over my skin appreciatively, and for the first time in a long time, he makes me feel wanted with just the way that he’s staring at me.
It gives me a wave of confidence I desperately needed.
“Let me prove it to you, beautiful,” he rasps against my lips, the air crackling with thick, heady tension between us. “Make me earn it the way he never did.”
I’m going to melt in this freaking hot tub.
For probably the hundredth time since I’ve met him, I wonder how this man is even real. Not only is he irresistibly attractive, but he’s also kind and patient, and these whispered words make my core throb.
Make me achy with need.
That I haven’t experienced… maybe ever.
“Kiss me, Wells,” I plead, the words a low, hoarse whisper, thick with needy arousal.
The words are barely past my lips when he crashes his mouth against mine and steals every drop of air from my lungs. His fingers tighten at my neck, and a bolt of desire races down my spine.
Wells McCoy isn’t tender or hesitant. Much like the man he is, his kisses are powerful and all-consuming, and I feel every ounce of it to the very ends of my toes, which curl against his calves when he takes my lip between his teeth and bites gently. Soothing the spot moments later with his tongue, he then sweeps it between my parted lips and tangles it with mine.
My thighs clench, the space between them throbbing with each stroke of his tongue, with each breath he gives and takes.
His hand that isn’t tangled in my hair slips to my waist, curving around the slight dip there, and moves to my hips, where he fists the fabric of my T-shirt.
I’m burning so hot, completely unsure if it’s the temperature of the water or if it’s solely the man touching me, that I feel like I might combust at any moment.
The steady, heavy thrum of my pulse in sync with my heart makes me feel dizzy with… desire.
