6
As soon as the door was shut behind me, he pushed through it. I let out a yelp of annoyance as the door busted open and swiveled on my heel to see what the fuck he wanted.
“How can I help you?” I demanded, furious that he was coming into this place like this. My room was meant to be my space. That was how I understood it. And I had worked so hard keeping him out of here, keeping him at arm’s length, keeping him so far from me emotionally that I could begin to convince myself there was nothing going on, not really. I planted my hands on my hips as he stood there, chest rising and falling quickly, trying to think of something to say.
“Well?” I prompted him.
“You need to talk to me,” he shot back finally. He was never much good at coming up with what he needed to say at the time he needed to say it, but he seemed to be filling in the blanks a little with everything else, piecing things together slowly but surely. I could see it in his eyes, those feelings for me beginning to swell and grow, whether he liked it or not. And it scared me as much as it clearly scared him.
“What about?” I fired back. “Seriously? What do you want to talk to me about?”
“You can’t just leave what you said to me hanging,” he replied, incredulous. “That night, when you left, you told me you …”
He trailed off. He didn’t need to remind me. As if I didn’t go over what I’d said to him that night every single chance I got, as if I didn’t wish I could reel those words back inside me and pretend I’d never even thought them, let alone said them out loud to him.
“You need to get out of my room.” I pointed to the door. Just having him this close to the bed, when emotions were running as high as they were in that moment, was dangerous. He backed out, and I followed him to the door, watching him go.
“I need my space, Kristo,” I called out after him, and he came to a halt. Even though I knew I should have just let him walk away from me, I didn’t want him to leave. I craved that emotion, that communication, even when it came in the form of us screaming at each other like a pair of moody teenagers.
“I’m happy to give that to you.” He rounded on me once more. “But I can’t handle you treating me like I don’t exist. Just go back to your condo, and I’ll pick you up when we need to go see my family if you don’t want to be around me.”
I fell silent once more. He must have known how little I wanted that. I could have thrown that out there when he’d come back for me the week before, but I didn’t want to be in that condo all by myself, not when I had tasted how sweet it was to be with Kristo, to share my home and my life with him.
“I don’t want that,” I finally mumbled.
“What did you say?” He took a step toward me. Suddenly, the space between us had closed significantly, and he was standing just a few feet away from me. I could smell his aftershave, the memory of it imprinted on my brain after that night we spent together. It was making me stupid. Well, stupider.
“I said I don’t want that.” I raised my gaze, narrowed my eyes, and looked him in the face. “I don’t want to go. I’m not moving all my stuff back down again. I’m staying. You’re just going to have to get used to giving me some space.”
“Fine,” he snapped back, and there was a moment between us, a moment where neither of us said anything. His eyes flicked down to my lips, and before I knew it, my stomach was flipping, and my body was screaming at me to do something about this, about the chemistry that seemed to light the air in this room on fire.
He moved toward me and kissed me, a forbidden kiss, exactly the kind of thing I had been trying to avoid since I had come back. That was what all the coldness had been, an attempt to ignore how impossible it was to fight my feelings for him. It was a brief kiss, and he swiftly pulled himself away from me, shaking his head and turning his back.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, and he began to walk away from me. But I could feel the pressure of his mouth on mine, the warmth of it, and I reached up to touch my lips, to trace the shape of him against me. Even though I knew this was the dumbest idea I’d had in a long time, I walked toward him. He turned just as I reached him, and I moved against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily.
It felt so right. That was what I couldn’t get over. It just felt so right, so good, so obvious for the two of us to be together in this way. I was surprised I’d been able to fight it for as long as I had because I felt a relief being in his arms again that I’d never felt with anyone else I’d been with. As though I had been craving a dose of him, my body silently reaching out and aching for him. That was how it felt as we kissed for the first time in what felt like forever, as we found that connection that had been so sorely missing.
He pulled back from me for a moment and pushed me away from him. For a brief second, I thought he was turning me down, and my brain kicked into high-panic mode. Instead, he caught my face between his hands and looked me dead in the eyes.
“Do you want this?” he demanded, forceful.
“Yes,” I breathed, but that wasn’t enough for him.
“Do you really want this?” he asked again. “I need you to tell me you’re sure about this, Amaya.”
“I’m sure,” I promised him. “I’m certain. Please, Kristo.”
And with that, he kissed me again, this time scooping me off the ground and heading directly toward my bedroom. I held on to him tight, any panic in the back of my head about whether this was a bad idea or if I was making some kind of spectacularly huge mistake falling away as he laid me down on the bed. After tugging my jeans down my legs, he moved on top of me, stroking my hair back from my face as he slipped his hand between my legs, cupping my pussy through my panties.
“Oh.” I groaned as he moved down my neck, baring his teeth for a moment as he hovered over my throat. I wondered how long he’d been thinking about this, planning this, going over the details in his head, figuring out precisely how he was going to torment me and make a meal out of me. I could barely think straight as he slipped his fingers inside my panties and pushed them into my core. He let out the softest moan against my neck as he fingered me for the first time like this was what he’d been waiting for.
“You need to be completely naked,” he breathed in my ear. “Right. Now.”
“You too,” I replied as the two of us undressed each other. My hands were shaking as I plucked at his shirt and unbuckled his jeans, and there was still some part of me, paranoid, that was reminding me this wasn’t going to make getting over him any easier. But I didn’t care. After how distant we’d been, I craved the connection to him, that way of pulling ourselves back to each other the way I needed right now.
Once he had me fully naked and I had stripped him down, he pushed me back on the bed and ran his hands all over my body. I traced the muscles on his shoulders, wondering once again what the hell a man like this was doing interested in someone like me. He could have had his pick of supermodels with a body like that, yet he touched me like I was fine velvet, expensive, precious, rare.
He was already hard, his cock pressed against my inner thigh with an eagerness, and I just wanted to feel him inside me. He was kissing me as he reached over to the bedside cabinet, making out with me deeply, and I knew he felt the same kind of urgency I did. As though, if we didn’t move fast enough, the reality of the situation would begin to set in and we would both think better of it. But for the time being, both lost to the passion of the moment, we could convince ourselves this was a good idea, that it was the only good idea.