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“Not like this,” I say, looking seriously into her eyes, not letting her hands go. I want her to understand.
“Don’t you want me?” she asks, confusion flickering across her features.
“I do. So damn bad. But I can’t treat you like a fuck toy.”
Her forehead presses against mine, and I know she’s trying to fucking break me as she rocks against me, trying to push my boundaries. I can sense her trembling and hear her breathlessness. Sliding my hand between her thighs, I rub slow circles on the outside of the joggers she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips, sweet and needy.
She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses her way up to my ear, letting me hear her whispered desires.
“Lose control with me,” I say, giving her what she craves.
“I always do.”
It’s the most honest thing she’s ever said.
“So. Close.” She tenses under my touch.
The sound of the sea drowns out her desperate cries as I slide my hand into her panties. It doesn’t take long before she’s losing it. Billie kisses me as she falls apart, her body shaking as she comes hard, her thighs clenching around me like she’s trying to milk every last drop of pleasure from this moment.
When it’s over, she collapses against me, her chest heaving like she just ran a marathon. I hold her against me. I smile, running my fingers through her hair, inhaling the sweetness of her skin. As she comes down from her high, Billie pulls away, her dark, fucked-out eyes meeting mine.
“You’re different tonight.” She rests her chin on my chest, looking both satisfied and contemplative.
I lift my brow, tucking my arm behind my head, capturing her in my memory. “I’m also fucking trashed on whiskey. Wonder if I’ll remember this tomorrow.”
“You know I’m unforgettable,” she says.
She moves off of me, and we sit up.
Billie glances at the bulge in my shorts, smirking like she won atwisted game. “I like knowing I drive you wild. I think it’s the confirmation I needed.”
I lift a brow. “Really? What will you do with that information now that you have it?”
“I’m not sure.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “Will you always deny me?”
She breathes out, and the mood grows serious.
My smile widens. “Probably.”
“Asshole response. Typical,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“That’s because Iaman asshole. You know that. But so are you. That’s why this works,” I say.
“Hate to fuck around and run, but I’m exhausted.” Billie’s face softens, her eyes heavy.
I pick up the bottle of whiskey and take a long pull.
Her face softens, and she dips down, tasting the whiskey on my lips.
“Can we talk tomorrow morning before I leave? No bullshit. No arguing. No masks. No whiskey,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Before I agree to anything, I’d like you to tell me how that shit sandwich tastes? Seems like the other night wasn’t my last chance, was it?” I ask.
She leans over and paints her lips across mine again.
I’m desperate for her.
“Hmm. It tastes like satisfaction,” she says, her hot breath on my cheeks.