So. Long(158)

“Why? There are shit-tons of people who are just friends even if one or both are attracted to the other. Right? It happens.”

“Maybe, but do the guys run around like that all the time? How could they stand it, doesn’t it—like, isn’t there something about blue—oh, hell…” She looks away, her cheeks brighter than before.

I touch her arm. “Something about what?”

“Blue balls? Won’t you be miserable if you can’t keep that thing under control?”

It comes on out of nowhere, and I’m sure it’s the wrong time, but I laugh.

She props her hands on her hips. “You asked what I was talking about. Don’t laugh at me.”

I do my best to calm down. It isn’t working. She taps her foot, arms crossed.

I answer with as straight a face as possible. “Well, I can do a couple of things. I can get fucked somewhere else, since you obviously don’t want to help me out. Or I’ll just have to jack-off three or four times a day. I’ll probably get tendonitis in my good wrist, but it’ll be worth it.”

Her exaggerated eye roll is accompanied by a huge sigh. She tries to push past me toward the door.

Shit. “No. Wait—can we talk this out?”

She steps away. Her back ramrod straight, her arms tight over those delicious breasts. “Talk what out? I don’t even know if I want to be your friend, Danny. And do you really want to be my friend, or do you just want to get laid? Because I’m not that girl. You’ve got your choice of those girls, pick one of them.”

Suddenly, it’s not funny. Nothing is funny.

I’m going to fucking lose her.

I hold up my injured arm. “See this? You know why this happened, Mo?”

“You’re a moron who put his fist through a plate glass door?”

“Because I want you so damned bad. Because all I want is you. I don’t want other girls, Mo. Not now. Fuck—not ever.”

Her eyes close, her chin drops, and she turns her back on me.

My chest freezes. I step behind her and grasp her hip.

She turns and I slide my arm around her, pulling her to me.

My pulse thumps through every fiber of my being. “Mo?”

Her hands land flat on my pecs, pushing.

But I’m not letting go.

She focuses somewhere over my shoulder. “Danny, you—me—it just won’t work. I’m sorry.”

I pull her tight against me, whispering in her ear. “Don’t go. Please.”

Fuck this shit. Playing nice is for nice guys. And I’m anything but nice.





SIX





I close my eyes. What do I do? As long as he’s touching me, I’m never going to be able to pull away.

His lips graze my jaw, moving toward my mouth.

Oh, lord. My fingers close on the edges of his open shirt.

His green eyes bore into me, his tone almost angry. “I won’t give up so easily. You’re not leaving until you know what you’re walking out on.”

He slides his injured arm around my waist and his good hand cradles the back of my head as he pulls me closer. His heart hammers against my chest. Mine answers in kind. His mouth crashes down, his tongue taking full possession. He tastes of cherries. Sweet and juicy cherries.

My hands move to the smooth skin at his sides, bumping over the ridges of muscle. His tongue trails a heated path to my neck. When he sucks at my pulse point, I press my breasts against his hard pecs.

I lean my head back as he plants warm kisses along my collarbone. His palm slips down my back, cupping my ass cheek in a squeeze that makes my core throb. Then he’s got his hand under my shirt, sliding up my spine. When he reaches the place my bra clasp should be, he smoothes a large circle over the bare skin.

A groan sounds from low in the back of his throat. “I love No Bra Day.”

He takes hold of my bare breasts, tweaking my beaded nipples one at a time. Once again his tongue masters mine, slipping in and out, coaxing me to join in. He nibbles at my bottom lip as he kneads my breast. I push my tit into his palm as though I can get closer to him.

His erection presses into my belly and the image of it in his hand comes to the forefront of my mind. I want to touch it so bad my palms itch. My stomach quivers at the thought. I slide my fingers to his waistband, where they hover above the denim separating them from their goal. God, if I do this…

As though he can read my thoughts, he deepens our kiss as he guides my hand to the front of his jeans. I gasp when he flattens my palm over the huge bulge straining against his zipper. He kisses along my jaw.

He slides his tongue across the shell of my ear and whispers, “It’s okay. Touch me. I want you to touch.”

Warmth floods through me, sending a stream of liquid to my entrance. Pressure pulses against my silk panties. With trembling hands I release his snap and slide the zipper down. His cock pushes out of the V of his open pants.