Page 16 of Crossing the Line

Pillow Talk

Paisley Grove

About an Hour Later

We stripped off the rest of our clothes and left them scattered on floor of the den. Then Hercules took my hand. He and I gaped at each other, raising our eyebrows, and naughtily smirking conspiratorially as he led me to his king-sized bed, which has a sexy black leather tufted headboard. We’ve been rolling from one side of his bed to the other and from the foot of the bed to the head of it, making out like hormonal teenagers. We tried having a conversation since there’s still so much catching up on the past seven years to do. At certain moments, our lips would release each other so that we could gently brush our noses—our cheeks—our foreheads. The energy of our contact generates feels like supple velvet. I feel that way right now. My head is on its way to Mars. My emotions overwhelm me. I think it’s the same for Hercules too as we put our foreheads together to catch our breaths. I’m certain we’re making up for the numerous times we wanted to do exactly what we’re doing now without feeling guilty about it.

“I’m going to put on a condom,” he whispers.

Forget a condom. I just want him inside me already.I swallow, forcing myself to be rational during this lustful moment.“Okay?” I softly say.

Air cools my skin when Hercules’s body abandons mine. My cells already miss his.Dangerous, Paisley. Very dangerous.Regardless of how uninhibited I feel, I’m still playing with fire.

But I ignore my inner warning system for now.

Hercules’s gaze roams my figure as he slides on a condom.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he remarks.

My eyebrows shoot up. It’s still unfathomable that Hercules Lord wants me—the nerd he met in high school.

Now that the cap is on, he watches me with pressed lips. “What are you thinking?”

I start to speak, but then think better of it. I’m on the verge of telling him the truth. But for some reason, I’m too embarrassed to admit that he makes me feel insecure.

“Come on, PG, what’s putting that crease between your eyes,” he says as he lays down beside me.

I clear evidence of my lack of confidence away from my forehead. “Nothing.” My high-pitched voice isn’t at all convincing. Hercules kneads my thigh and I’m on sensory overload.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks.

“No,” I say ardently.

With the tip of his soft finger, he traces a line up my sternum and between my breasts. I’m melting when his hand caresses my chin. “Good.”

Our eye contact stays steady.

Why do I want to say I love you? I can’t love him. I haven’t seen him in seven years.

His expression is so earnest when he says, “I’ve missed you, PG?”

Don’t be afraid. Say it back, Paisley.My eyes tear up when I confess, “I’ve missed you too.”

And then…

* * *

Fifteen MinutesLater

I lie on top of Hercules’s bare chest as he strokes my hair. I recall how soft and hairless his chest used to be seven years ago. He has more hair now but not a lot. I kiss his smooth skin, and he moans as if my lips are tastier than birthday cake.

“That was good, PG. You’re good.” He almost sounds surprised by that. I’m certainly surprised by his claim.

I raise my head to gaze into his serious eyes. “I’m good at what? Kissing your chest?”

He chuckles. “Sex.”

I raise my chin a few inches higher. “Sex? I can’t be that good at it. I have no real experience doing it.”