My smile came back to me as I reached across the table to hold her hand. It felt so nice to hold her again. Once she got over the shock and the guilt, she’d remember how great it felt to touch me, how amazing the connection we had was.
She flinched and tried to pull her hand away, but I securely held it as I stroked her fingers. She needed to remember how easy it was to hold me. That was the only way we could return to how we were. “Well…right now, we are friends.” I ran my eyes up and down her body, wishing we were completely alone again. “Good friends.” And so much more. Let me in, and I can be your everything.
She gaped at me, then she got angry. “You said we weren’t friends. Just roommates, remember?”
I knew I couldn’t explain everything that I was feeling to her, not when she was still clouded with guilt, so I playfully told her, “You changed my mind. You can be very…persuasive.” Not able to resist, I lowered my voice and asked her, “Would you like to persuade me again sometime?” Maybe right now? I would love to run my hands over your body again, hear you pant my name, feel you clench around my body. I’d love to make love to you. I’d love to take care of you. Just give me a chance.
She stood up so fast she scraped the chair against the floor. I let go of her hand, but I wasn’t about to let go of her. She’d have to forcefully send me away this time, and I knew she wouldn’t. Not anymore.
Her abrupt movement got Denny’s attention. “You okay?”
Looking flustered and embarrassed, Kiera called back, “Yes. Just going upstairs to take a shower. I have to get ready for work…for Emily’s shift.”
I immediately pictured her soaking wet—her dark hair slicked back, soapy bubbles sliding between her breasts. My jeans started getting uncomfortable as I let my fantasy run away with me. While she glanced back at Denny, who had already turned back to the TV, I quietly asked her, “Would you like me to join you? We could continue our…conversation.”
She glared at me, so I took her response to my playful suggestion as a no.
While she went upstairs and took a shower, I sipped on my coffee. My every thought swirled around her as I absentmindedly watched the TV show Denny was watching. I pictured her undressing, I pictured her turning on the water, I imagined her stepping inside, goose bumps on her skin until the searing water soothed them. I pictured her hands running over every curve. With that lewd movie playing in my head, sitting still at the kitchen table was difficult; all I wanted to do was go upstairs and join her. I could tease her with soft caresses, gentle kisses. Rile her up until she begged me to take her again. I’d love to do that…but not while Denny was here. That felt too far over the line, and I’d already stepped farther than I’d ever intended. It was too late to go back now though, so all I could do was be as good as I could be when he was around, and a charming but devilish bastard whenever he wasn’t.
Chapter 14
Addicted
Once things calmed down around the house, I relaxed, but I had the hardest time stopping myself from relentlessly flirting with Kiera at every opportunity. I couldn’t help it. Even if Denny was around I did it, which always made me feel a little guilty afterward.
I touched her in intimate places, kissed the back of her neck and shoulders, and mentally undressed her with my eyes. I just wanted her to touch me back…kiss me…make love to me again. It was all I thought about. I had Kiera on the brain twenty-four/seven.
And I knew Kiera felt the same, even though she resisted, even though she pushed me away. Her body reacted to every place I touched her. Just running my fingers across her shoulder blades nearly gave her an orgasm. It was fun to watch, and it made the anticipation that much stronger. I knew, with the passion between us, that the next time we were together, it would be explosive. I was addicted to Kiera, plain and simple, and I couldn’t get enough.
She called me out on my change of behavior. Shivering under my caress one morning, she pushed me away, and with an irritated tone of voice, said, “You are so…moody. I can’t keep up with you.”
She had a cute glare on her face. It quickly slipped off though, like she was afraid she’d angered me. I supposed I did seem moody to her. I had been icy cold after our first time, and now I was fiery hot. But I’d loved her the entire time, and she’d been very misleading with her feelings, so if I was moody, it was only because she made me that way. Smiling, I playfully told her, “I’m an artist…not moody.”
Her lips pursed into a perfect pout. I wanted to suck on them. “Well, then you’re a moody artist.” Under her breath, she added, “You’re practically a girl.”