“Then don’t.”
His finger strokes along my collar bone.
“No,” I say. “No, I think I should. I don’t want to live in ignorance like this forever. I want to know.”
“Then we’ll go see the good professor in the morning.”
His fingers meander back up my neck and capture my chin. He leans down to kiss me.
“I’m still angry with you,” I murmur into his lips.
“Want to show me just how angry you are?” he says, cupping my ass and lifting me onto the nearest available surface.
“This isn’t how we should end every fight.”
“You want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers already popping open the buttons of my fly.
“No,” I confess, rolling down onto the hard, cold counter and lifting my hips so he can peel down my jeans.
I’m wearing the same old underwear I always wear. Low-slung cotton short things that are more about comfort than sex appeal. I decide I need Winnie to take me shopping for an upgrade.
The man in black trails his finger along the waistband of my underwear making me shiver against his touch, all theway along to one hip bone and back to the other, and the need between my legs intensifies.
“We can talk some more if you want to, sweetheart?”
“Enough talking,” I pant. “Enough teasing.” I capture his hand and guide it inside my panties right where I actually need his touch.
“You are such a brat, sweetheart.” He teases me, gliding his fingers along my folds but not dipping inside.
“You sound like Stone,” I mutter in frustration.
His hand halts. “Does Phoenix often call you sweetheart?”
Heat sweeps up my cheeks. “No … I meant … he’s always telling me I’m a brat.”
The man in black examines my face. And I’m so damn pleased it’s not him who can read my thoughts. How angry would he be? Jealous? Would he care? He says he cares.
I try to read his expression, but there’s only curiosity and something a lot darker. Something that has me writhing against his fingers.
“You’re so wet,” he says. “Always so wet.”
“Is it always like this?” I ask him.
“Like what, sweetheart?”
He rings my clit with his thumb, making my legs shake and my core clench.
“I feel like I’m caught up in a whirlwind,” I murmur. “Like I’m being thrown from one crazy emotion to the next. Like I want to scream at you and claw your eyes out one minute, and make you moan and fall apart the next. Like I can’t stop thinking about the things you do to me.”
He stares down at me and doesn’t say a word, his eyes turning darker and darker as his thumb flicks against me and he raises me higher and higher.
When I fall apart on his fingers, he grips my thighs andpulls me to the edge of the counter, ripping away my panties and pulling me right onto his waiting cock. I moan as he thrusts into me and I think Winnie’s grandma must be right. Anything that feels this good can’t be wrong, and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it while I can. While it lasts.
33
Spencer
I lie on my bed,the blind drawn down low, every part of my body aching, my head hammering, my mouth dry, my stomach turning over and over again.