Page 28 of When We Were More (Aron Falls #1)

“Now you’re the one acting crazy. Look at my eyes.

” I peer up at him, and I exaggerate the eye contact, bulging my eyes out and staring.

“You can pretend like this is a joke if you want, but I’m telling you that there is nothing wrong with your body.

In fact, it’s hot. Whoever made you think otherwise is a fucking idiot.

I don’t know what you think men want, but I’ll tell you what I like in a woman.

What I think a lot of men do. That’s what friends do for each other, right? ”

I’m not sure how it happened, but I find myself with my back against the wall, and Henry very close to me. Like, less than a foot away.

I nod, knowing this is probably a bad idea.

“We’re exclusively gonna talk physical here, and I’m going to be very direct, so tell me if that’s not okay.

” I say nothing, so he continues. “There are a lot of things that make up a woman. But you obviously have no idea how sexy you are. I like a woman with curves. With hips I can put my hands on, grip, while I’m fucking her. ”

Holy hell, did he just say that? And why did I like hearing it so much?

I like when I touch a woman’s waist and it’s a little soft.

” He holds eye contact as he speaks, no faltering in his voice, but there’s a panty-melting confidence to it that’s killing me.

“I love tits like yours. Voluptuous, but not obnoxious. I’d kill to bury my face in that flesh while I’m sucking on your nipple. ”

My eyes widen.

“You just took it from general to very specific. About you and me,” I whisper.

“I did. With you, I could grab a handful of your tits when we’re being rough.

Or caress the soft flesh as my thumb traces patterns on your skin.

Your ass, a woman with an ass like yours, men love that, Matilda.

I want to touch it. You have the kind of ass where I could lift you up, and have you wrap your legs around my waist, holding you with my hands splayed out across those gorgeous cheeks. ”

He pauses for a few seconds, searching my face. I suspect he’s making sure I’m okay.

“The last thing, the thing that really turns me on, is when a woman has that soft spot at the bottom of their belly, the one that you all hate, but I love. If you have that, I’d love to kiss it, suck on your flesh as I’m working my way down your body to eat your sweet pussy.”

“Jesus, Henry.”

We’re both breathing heavily, I can tell by the obvious erection when I glance down that he’s turned on. Christ. I’m wet already simply from his words. I can only imagine what this man can do with his body.

“So, just know, when I hear you talking shit about your body, I’m always going to correct you. Because you have every damn thing I love about a woman’s body, and I’ve never seen someone who had it all before you.”

“We’re standing very close to each other.”

“We are,” he says, never taking his eyes off me. His voice is rough.

“Can I be truthful with you?”

“Yes, I always want you to be truthful with me, no matter what.”

“I’m struggling a bit because, since my divorce…

Well, there hasn’t been a lot of action or even desire to be with another person.

But whatever this is between us that makes us spark, it’s awakened something that I thought was never coming back.

We’re friends and that’s all I want, but we have to do something to ease this sexual tension between us, and I have an idea. ”

“What’s your idea?” His voice is rough.

“I think we should kiss. Once. I think that when we do, it’ll break the illusion or the built-up expectation about what this could be between us physically, and then it won’t bother us anymore.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I don’t think I’m wrong. But if I am, then we’ll figure out what to do about that.”

His eyes are intense as he holds my gaze.

His right hand comes up and cups my face, his fingers moving into my hair, and his thumb slowly strokes back and forth against my cheek.

He moves his entire body closer. Close enough that my breasts press up against him, and I can feel his erection against my lower belly.

“Does that mean I can kiss you now?” His voice is gravelly.

I nod.

Henry leans forward until his lips touch mine.

At first, it’s a soft peck, but he doesn’t pull away.

When I whimper, he takes advantage of my mouth opening and slides his tongue inside.

His other hand comes up to my throat, slides to the back of my head, and into the hair at the base of my neck.

I open further for him, and his tongue explores my mouth.

I get even more turned on. Fuck. It’s supposed to be dissolving this chemistry, but instead, my desire for him is increasing.

I press into him, and he notices, deepening the kiss when I add my tongue.

My hands need to touch him. I move them from my sides and put them on his chest, loving how hard he is underneath my fingers.

He groans, and the kiss becomes more desperate, harder, faster, primal almost. At some point, I lift my leg, and my inner thigh touches his outer thigh.

I move to put it down, but he grabs it, holds me there with his forearm under my thigh, and his hand spread out against my ass.

I’m not sure how much time passes. A simple kiss turned into the hottest thing I think I’ve ever experienced.

But we separate our mouths at some point, and he slowly releases his hand and arm from my ass and leg.

He leans his forehead against mine. We stand there, breathing heavily, both trying to calm our bodies down after such an adrenaline rush.

A couple of minutes pass in silence.

“I don’t think that worked.” I think he was trying to crack a joke, except he sounds completely serious. And he’s one hundred percent right because that kiss did nothing but make me want him more.

“I think we should go back downstairs. The kiss was probably a bad idea.” I want him to argue with me, to tell me that he doesn’t want that, but he doesn’t. He steps back and runs his hands through his hair.

“You’re right. The kids will probably wonder where I've gone.”

We look at each other, and he grins.

“You should probably go into the bathroom and fix your hair before you come down. I’ll go down first.”

Before he leaves, he lifts his thumb to my cheek and runs it back-and-forth a few times, then he leans in and kisses me on the forehead.

After he’s gone, I slide down the wall to sit on the floor in Sally’s room. What the hell have I done? My body is on full alert. It’s wondering why everything stopped. It was primed and ready for more. Why did I think that kissing him would make it easier?

When I finally go downstairs, Henry and I avoid each other for the rest of the party, though nearly every time I glance in his direction, he’s looking at me.

I only stay another hour or so, sample a few pies, then tell Sally and Ruthie I’m going to head home and get to bed early.

When I hug Sally goodbye, I look over her shoulder and see Henry watching me.

I raise my hand and give him a slight wave.

After what happened upstairs, it doesn’t seem right to leave without him knowing.

I get home and take care of a few things.

I have a glass of wine and try reading for a bit, but my thoughts keep drifting.

I’m reliving the kiss in my head when a sharp knock comes from my front door area.

I sit upright, initially nervous. I glance down at my watch, and it’s only nine-thirty at night.

I stand as quietly as I can and tiptoe over to the door so I can peek through the peephole.

When I stand on my tiptoes and look through it, I’m not surprised.

If it wasn’t going to be him, it very well was going to be me at some point showing up at his place.

I open the door, and Henry and I stare at each other without saying anything. Whatever happens next is going to have a significant impact, not only on our friendship, but on my life.