Page 83 of Let You Love Me

“You’re still. . .” She trails off, then clears her throat.

Obviously, she thought the cold water would take care of my friend from the land down under, but the chill of the lake has nothing on the sex appeal of Lane Turner.

“You have quite the effect on me.” My mouth curves.

Her finger traces the lines of my collarbone, her tone soft as she asks, "Doallyour girl friends have this effect on you?"

“I told you before.” I shake my head. “I don’t have friends that are girls. Only you.”

“Why me?” Her eyes lift.

“I think you know.”

She may have a buzz and we may be skirting a line we shouldn’t here, but there’s no point in pretending.

I want Lane.

I’ve wanted her since the moment I laid eyes on her, and I won’t let her forget, for even a second, how desirable she is simply because I vowed to settle for friendship.

She hums under her breath, and the sound reverberates through my chest, sending more blood south.

Great. Just what I fucking need.

I grip her ass and shift her position so she’s higher around my waist. I’m not sure how much of this I can endure. My self-restraint is a thin thread between us, growing weaker by the second as her bright blue eyes stare up at me, daring me to act on something I fear she’ll regret later. Unfortunately for her, I know what she’s doing. She’s afraid, scared shitless, and she’s trying to give me all the control and push me to make a move, so later on, when she freaks out—and shewillinevitably freak out—she’ll have someone to blame. But as much as I want her, Lane regretting me is the one thing I can’t handle. And if I take advantage, the moment I leave tonight, all of her fears and worries and inhibitions will come rolling in like a roaring thundercloud.

“Damn, I want to kiss you,” I whisper, brushing a thumb over the corner of her mouth. In case it isn’t completely obvious, I need her to know. I don’t want my lack of action to make her feel like I don’t want her in every conceivable way because I do.

Her gaze homes in on my mouth, her hair drying around her face in thick, wavy ropes as she licks her lips. “Then do it.”

“Friends, remember?” I say through clenched teeth.

“Friends are overrated.”

Fuck yes, they are. At this moment, in particular.

“Lane . . .” I lick my lips, a warning lilt to my voice as I instinctively lean closer. Her breath cascades over my mouth, and I fist my hands behind her back.

“Teagan . . .” she mocks.

I swallow and press my forehead to hers, my breath heavy in my ears and mingling with the erratic beat of my heart.

My hands slide up her back, slick from the lake.

I close my eyes, inhaling the scent coming from her skin—brown sugar and something floral?and I want to drown in her, plunge into her depths and never surface.

A shaky breath parts my lips as her hands start their own perusal, gliding over the muscles of my back, my shoulder blades, up to my neck and raking into my hair.

I imagine what it would be like to crush my mouth to hers, to kiss her until those hands and fingers yank at my roots. I imagine her breathy moans, the contented sighs I’m certain I can coax from her.

And then her hands slide between us, tracing the muscles of my pecs, moving over the ripple of my abdomen clenching even tighter at her southward movement.

A breath hisses between my teeth as she stops just above my groin, pausing as if she knows what she’s doing to me. How much she’s torturing me.

I blink my eyes open to see her hooded gaze, clouded with lust in the moonlight, and I wonder if she’s been with anyone since Sophie’s father. If my instincts are right, she hasn’t. Because if there’s one thing I know about Lane, it’s that she puts her daughter first above all else, even above her own pleasure.

And damn if I don’t find that fucking attractive.

I want to be the one to give hereverything, including a safe place to fall, but also the release she needs, the one she deserves. I want to see her come undone at my hand, be the one to make her unravel.