My lips press against hers, and her devilish little tongue sweeps in, surprising me. I'm suddenly so hard that it's painful. I really hope she ends this torture for me.
She moans into my mouth as her fingers tangle in my hair, a desire-ridden tug following her soft caress.
She's mine now.
***
Ashiara
What the hell am I doing?
Have I lost my damn mind all of the sudden?
He’s lying between my legs, and I’m wrapping them around him like some hormonal fool unable to control myself. He’s nothing but bad for me, and yet I’m spiraled around him, grinding against his incredible erection meant for me.
“Ash,” he whispers as he slides my dress up. “I want you so damn bad.”
My blood boils through my veins as everything within me ignites in unison. I want him, but this isn’t right. I don’t do this shit. But what could it hurt to have a little fun? With a stranger I barely know? At my best friend's mother's house?
Nope. Not happening.
I moan slightly as his lips crush mine, pinning me at his mercy as he slides my dress up around my hips. Both the devil and the angel in my mind cease to sway my thoughts, as surrealism sinks in its claws, and I become a victim of my own primal needs.
The tips of his fingers finds their way under the waistband of my panties, and then I gasp as they strum over my sex, finding the moisture that has gathered - thanks to his touch.
“Fuck,” he breathes, letting his delectable breath travel across my face as my hands tangle in his hair, and then he lets his finger slip in.
He pulls back and then jerks his pants down, before reaching up to start tugging at my underwear.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Stop,” I squeal as I jerk my dress down and my panties up.
“What? What’s wrong?” he breathlessly releases while staying half dressed.
I roll my eyes before slipping free from his clutches as I try to compose my panted, exhausted breaths.
“I can’t do this. Hell, I don’t even know you. The only thing I know about you is my best friend hates you.”
He scrubs his face in frustration, acting as though he feels tortured - which is comforting since I feel pretty damn tortured. I’m so glad his shirt is still on.
He sniggers as he walks toward me in his shirt and boxers.
“I’m not worried about Bity’s disapproval. I want you, and I happen to know for a fact you want me. Let’s just end the suspense."
Did my knees just wobble? It had to be my imagination.
“No. We-”
“Hey, Tag. Where you at?” Wren’s voice chirps from down the hallway.
“Shit,” Tag groans while jerking his pants back on and tucking his shirt in as quickly as he can.
“Tag, come on, man. We’ve got pictures to do,” Wren bellows while opening doors left and right, all of them slamming as he restlessly continues his search.
Tag ducks behind the door just as it swings open, and Wren looks me over as he fills the doorway. Right now, I’m praying my hair isn’t an absolute mess to display... whatever that was.
“Hey, Wren,” I murmur awkwardly.
“Hey, have you seen Tag? Mom wants us to pose for some pictures before the sun completely sets.”
“Um, I haven’t seen him since he bandaged me up, but I’ll tell him if I do.”
Tag grins lightly while relaxing out of Wren’s view.
“Do… have you… um, my brother is outside with Rene. Do you want me to send him up after the pictures?”
I stifle my grin, while Tag suppresses a laugh.
“No. I’m about to come down. I just need to change, since this dress is a little messed up from the gravel. I was just about to do that when you walked in.”
His body stiffens as anxiety crosses over his face. I can see the worry in his eyes for what he thinks he almost saw, but he has no clue what he almost saw. I was damn close to caving and throwing myself at Tag.
“Yeah, I’ll… see ya.”
He rushes away, and the door clicks behind him as Tag walks back toward me with his predatory stalk.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever heard Wren so rattled. Apparently I’m not the only one getting Ashed around here.”
Ashed? I don't think so.
“Oh hell no. Don’t turn my name into a verb like yours,” I huff while crossing my arms over my chest.
He smirks as he continues to strut toward me, and then he grips my waist in his hands as he pulls me against his lingering, damn near irresistible erection.
“Too late. You’re Tagged and I’m Ashed. Now, how do I make you comfortable enough to give up this game of cat and mouse?”
Keep looking at me like that, and it won’t take long to find out.
“Not happening. Believe it or not, I have a firm policy about knowing someone before I screw them. I don’t even know your last name.”