Page 52 of Feels Like Love
“What?” I grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ll miss our dance parties?”
“Are you kidding?” he teased. “I live for dance parties.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me up off the couch.
Before I even realized what was happening, he was spinning me around. Then spinning me back into his arms. His front was pressed to my back, his arms pinning me to his body. My breath caught in my chest, and I wondered if he could feel my heart beating against his forearm. We stayed that way for a while, swaying until I turned in his arms, linking my hands behind his neck.
He peered down at me then pulled me closer so my ear was resting against his chest. I didn’t know how it was possible to feel both incredibly turned on and completely relaxed all at the same time. But somehow Bennett managed what no other man had.
“This is nice.” His voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating through my ear.
I nodded against him, trying not to be obvious about the fact that I was breathing him in. Inhaling him like a drug. And as we stood there, swaying in the middle of my living room, I let myself relax in his arms. Accept what he was offering, even while I wanted more. So much more, that my body yearned for him, my heart going into overdrive anytime he was near.
When he moved out, I was going to miss a lot more than just the dance parties.
Chapter Thirteen
My phone buzzed. I glanced down to see Wren’s name on the screen and immediately smiled.
Wren: What are you wearing?
Was she asking because she wanted to know if River had picked my clothes again? That kid loved clothes and dressing up, and he had a really good eye for style. It wasn’t like I’d ever put much thought into my outfit, but seeing him light up as he picked through my clothes was definitely a highlight of my morning. That and the coy smile Wren had flashed me over her coffee mug when she caught me humming the song we’d danced to last night.
Just thinking about last night had my body buzzing with excitement. And we hadn’t even kissed. But our bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces as we swayed in her living room.
Growing up, I could remember her parents doing things like that—showing affection, dancing to a song only they could hear. I’d always looked to Wren’s parents as inspiration. I wanted a love like theirs. One that was deep and loyal, passionate and strong.
I finally typed out a response.
Me: A pair of gray slacks, blue button-down shirt, and my lab coat.
Wren: Sometimes, I imagine you fucking me in your lab coat.
I blinked at the screen a few times, swallowing hard. I hadn’t expected her to say something so brazen. So hot. It was a huge fucking turn-on. Everything about her was.
And while I wanted—desperately—to believe it was true, it also made no sense. I didn’t think I’d ever heard Wren say a word as crass as “fuck.” Was she drunk? Didn’t seem likely, considering it was the middle of the day. Had someone stolen her phone and started texting me?
Apparently, I took too long to respond because another message came through.
Wren: It’s not working, is it?
I could just imagine her sighing in defeat. But seriously…what the hell was she talking about? And then it dawned on me, just as her message came in.
Wren: The sexting. I was trying to practice it on you.
She’d been bugging me to help her with it for the past week. I’d been putting her off because I’d imagined us sitting in front of her phone, brainstorming responses to other men. Not…this.
Me: Sexting is a subtle art. Like any part of dating, sometimes the most tantalizing part is the tease. The buildup.
Me: You want to set the scene. Get both parties on the same page.
Wren: How? Can you show me?
If this was just practice, then I could finally say whatever I wanted, right? I may as well indulge a little, enjoy my fantasies since I knew it wasn’t real. At least, not for her.
I glanced up to make sure the door to my office was closed. Then I typed out a message and hit send before I could rethink it.
Me: You looked so fucking sexy last night.
Wren: I did?
