Page 6

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for what has to be a couple of hours. I’ve refused to check the time, though, so I can’t be certain.

Normally, I have no problem with sleep. I’m usually worn out from school and practice, so by the time my head hits the pillow, I’m out.

My struggle tonight has nothing to do with being on the couch and everything to do with the woman in my bed.

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes.

Just friends . She doesn’t want more than that .

Fuck, is it hard to think that way when she looks at me the way she did several times tonight. Her eyes full of heat, her cheeks pink. She wants me, that’s obvious. But she’s afraid of commitment. And after her ex, how can I blame her?

Sure, we could have a purely physical relationship, but I want more, and I’m scared if I give in and take what I can get, I’ll lose any chance of a real connection with her in the future.

Though what future do we really have?

If I’m drafted like I hope to be, I’ll be gone, living in another city so I can play hockey. And though we discussed the future at dinner, the details of where Bertie sees herself next year were vague.

The devil on my shoulder urges me to sneak back to my room and see if she’s as worked up as I am.

Tamping down the urge, I blow out a breath and roll over to face the wall.

“Luke?”

The single syllable is so quiet I almost miss it.

But the next words are a little louder and a little closer. “Luke, are you awake?”

I sit up, blanket falling to my waist, and find Bertie shadowed in the archway.

“Are you okay?” I look her over, but it’s dark and hard to make out more than her silhouette.

She nods in the darkness. “I’m fine.”

“Do you need water or something?” I shift and swing my legs over the side of the couch.

A shake of her head in response. “I’m having trouble sleeping.”

“Oh. Do you… I can take you back to your dorm. Would that help?”

Another shake of her head. “Will you lay with me?”

With that one simple question, I swear my dick comes awake.

“Um… I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Shoulders falling, she creeps closer, her figure more prominent now that she’s not bathed in heavy shadows.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, low enough she won’t hear.

Tossing the blanket off, I heave myself up. Then I shuffle over to her and take her small hand in mine. It’s cool to the touch.

Quietly, I lead her back to my room, and without a word, we get into the bed together.

She takes the side closer to the wall, putting me in my usual spot. We end up on our sides, my body spooned around hers.

Damn, it feels way too good to hold her like this.

The sweetest torture.

“You’re hard.”

I groan. “Sorry. Can’t help it. Just ignore it. It’ll go away eventually.”

Her laughter shakes us both, which doesn’t help my dick one bit.

“Bertie,” I warn softly, my lips brushing the back of her neck.

She giggles again. “Oops.”

I press my hand to her stomach to still her. It isn’t until she lets out a tiny gasp that I realize the intimacy of the move. But I don’t let go.

“You know what you’re doing,” I warn her.

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all. “No funny business. I promise.”

Silence falls between us, thick with sexual tension.

Internally, I’m spiraling. I shouldn’t have given in and come back here with her.

“Luke?”

“Mhm?” I hum.

“I really want you to touch me.”

I sigh against her ear, my heart lurching even as I get harder. “Bertie.”

“Please.”

“You’re not being fair.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes again, this time slipping her hand over mine on her abdomen. “Ignore me. But please don’t leave.”

“I want to touch you,” I tell her, whispering the confession against the shell of her ear. “But then I’m afraid you’ll ignore me.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” She wiggles against me, though this time, I’m not sure she registers the subtle movement.

“So if I slip my hand under this shirt and into your panties,” I say, easing the cotton covering her and running my fingers along the waistband of her underwear, “you’re still going to talk to me after?”

“Yes.” The word is a breathy gasp.

My stomach tightens with need. “Are you wet, B?”

Another wiggle of her butt.

“B?” I prompt when she doesn’t answer.

“Yes.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. Not that she can see it anyway. “Were you wet when you came out to find me? Were you laying in my bed thinking about me?”

“Y-Yes,” she whimpers.

“Fuck, baby.” I kiss her shoulder where the shirt has drifted down to reveal her smooth, creamy skin. “I’m not going to fuck you,” I tell her. “But I will get you off.” I slip my fingers beneath her panties and circle her clit, pulling a gasp from her lips. When I dip lower, she moans. “You’re fucking soaked. Just thinking about me gets you this wet, huh?”

She whimpers, rolling her ass against my dick.

“You don’t have to answer me,” I croon against her neck, rubbing her clit. “I already know it does.”

“Luke,” she breathes, the sound full of need and desire.

Fuck, what I’d give to hear her say my name again. But we’re not alone in the house.

I slip a finger inside her, and she gasps again. Sliding my other arm beneath her neck, I cover her mouth with my hand.

“You gotta be quiet, B. I can’t have you waking up my mom, can I?”

She whimpers again, and I swear she gets even wetter, like the idea of being caught excites her. It’s an interesting development. I never would have guessed she’d be the type to enjoy that kind of thing.

My girl is full of surprises.

She rocks against my hand, making the sweetest little noises beneath my palm.

Pressing my lips against the crook of her neck, I suck at her delicate skin. “Your pussy is squeezing the life out of my fingers.” I pull my hand from her mouth and slip it down the front of her t-shirt. “So fucking needy for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes. Please. More.”

“More what?” I tease.

She turns her head, peering at me over her shoulder as best as she can. Her eyes are hazy with lust, and I fucking love that I’m the one who put that look there.

“I want you.”

I brush my nose against her cheek. “You’ve got me.”

She has no idea the hold she has on me. I’ve been gone for this girl since freshman year. True, I didn’t pine after her like a lovesick puppy, but I never forgot her.

“Please, fuck me,” she begs, reaching back to rub her hand over my hard cock where it strains against my pants.

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

She whimpers like she’s in pain. “Luke.”

“Trust me, I want to.” I press my thumb against her clit, and she cries out, making me consider covering her mouth again. “But I’m selfish, and I want you to be mine before I do.”

It’s not like I haven’t had sex for the sake of enjoyment, but Bertie is different. I like her. I don’t want to get hurt because I feel more for her than she does me.

“I want you,” she confesses on a breath. “Even though I shouldn’t.”

She shouldn’t? Whatever that means. I don’t think she’s talking about the difference in our social status. Bertie might be from one of the wealthiest families in the US, but she’s also humble and down-to-earth.

Rather than respond, I continue teasing her with my hand, pressing kisses to her neck, and nipping at the sensitive skin there. The room fills with her panting breaths, making it clear that she’s close.

At her first cry, I cover her mouth again. I desperately want to hear her, but my mom is a light sleeper, and even though she’s made it obvious she wants Bertie and me involved, I don’t exactly think she needs to be privy to what we’re up to in here.

The roll of her hips slows as she comes down from the high, and as her cries quiet, I let my hand drift away from her mouth. Her breaths are heavy, her body limp, spent.

I pull my fingers from her and rub the wetness around her swollen clit.

She’s still twitching at the sensation when she rolls over to face me with a smile. “Your turn.”

I shake my head, and as her face falls in response, my heart clenches. Damn, I hate that my rejection has hurt her. “No.” I tuck a piece of blond hair behind her ear. “If you touch me right now, I won’t be able to stop until I’m inside you.”

She grins, touching my cheek with a gentle finger. “I wouldn’t mind.”

I know she wouldn’t. And fuck if it doesn’t take all my self-control to hold back.

“I’ll be okay,” I tell her. “Try to go to sleep.”

She looks like she’s going to protest, but before she can, she’s hit with a surprise yawn. “Fine. But just know, I give an A-plus blow job.”

“I know you do.”

She gives me a sleepy, satisfied smile. “Aw, you remember.”

I chuckle, making her body shake with mine. “Of course I remember.” I think about that night far more than I’d like to admit. If she knew how much, she’d probably bolt.

“Go to sleep.” I wrap my arm around her.

With a hum, she settles her head on my chest, her fingers splayed against my stomach.

I close my eyes, and for a moment, I let myself imagine that this is real and I get to hold her every night.