Serves Me Wright

I gasped at the contact, and he broke free of my lips, trailing kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. My core was on fire, and I was set to combust at the slightest touch.

“Jennifer,” he groaned and tugged me closer.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

A hand slid to the hem of my dress, caressing the soft skin of my thigh. I moaned again unabashedly. It was hard to think straight with him here, touching me like that.

His mouth moved to my ear. His tongue darted out to flick against the lobe. “We should get you home.”

“N-now?” I stammered out.

“I can’t do what I want with you here.”

I shivered at the words. “What-what do you want to do with me?”

His laughter was rough and gravelly. “Everything.”

13

Jennifer

“Oh,” I gasped.

Everything. It took my brain a minute to catch up. He meant…he meant, everything.

His hand moved up to the lace of my panties, and his words crystallized. He meant, he wanted me.

“Oh!”

Julian wanted me. Right now. He’d actually been asking me earlier if I felt something. Now that I knew the question, the answer was yes. So much yes.

He removed his roaming hands and stared down into my shocked face. He pressed another kiss to my swollen lips. “Ready to leave?”

The drink made me bolder than I ever would be otherwise. “God, yes.”

He smiled vibrantly and pulled me out of the bar. I didn’t even bother to say good-bye to Chester. We took an Uber back, tiptoeing through the darkened house. My parents were clearly asleep down the hall, but we didn’t want to risk waking them.

I dropped my purse on the counter as we stumbled into the bedroom. Then Julian was there again. His hot body pressing into me. It was so much that I could barely breathe as his hand tilted my chin up to look at him, and then when he saw what he was looking for, he pressed his lips to mine again. I sighed like a drowning girl getting her first taste of air.

“Julian,” I whispered, a plea.

He’d had more to drink than me. He’d even finished the number twelve, and somehow, he wasn’t slurring or stumbling. He cupped my face in his hands as if I were as precious as diamonds and as fragile as glass. My eyes fluttered when he pulled back to stare down at me.

“Do you want this?”

“You?”

He nodded, his thumbs drawing circles along my jaw. “Tell me you want me.”

I swallowed and bit my lip. “I want you.”

His gaze remained on mine. A flush suffused my skin at the direct contact. “Say it again.”

I laughed, managed to be embarrassed, even while drunk. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“With you? Never.”

“And what do you want?” I asked with a huff.

His smile was practically feline. “Shall I show you?”

He didn’t wait for my reply, just dropped his mouth onto mine. Slow and languid, nipping at the bottom lip and sending shivers down my spine. I clung to him. My fingers moving up into the dark strands of his hair. I’d wondered how the silky strands felt, and here I was, discovering it for myself.

Julian stepped backward, and I tripped, nearly landing in a pile on the floor.

He laughed softly. “You’re drunk.”

“So are you,” I muttered as he helped me back up.

“Tipsy,” he corrected.

He swept an arm under my knees and effortlessly lifted me into the air. I threw my arms around him. He chuckled as he carried me the short distance to our small double bed and laid me out across it. I let my sandals slip off the side of the bed. Brazenly, I left the skirt of my dress hitched up high on my thighs.

His gaze traveled across the milky skin. I could see a spot of indecision on his face, and then I steeled myself and reached for him. I took his hand in mine and drew him down onto the bed next to me. That was apparently all the invitation he needed before his mouth covered mine again. And God willing, he still tasted like a Dreamsicle. I’d never taste one again and not think about him.

Alcohol battered against my anxiety, releasing its hold on me. It was only me and Julian in the room. I’d wanted this with him from day one. I didn’t plan to refuse whatever he was offering. Whatever the outcome.

His hands were more hesitant than they’d been at the bar, staying firmly planted on my sides as he kissed me. But I wanted more. My core was pulsing in tempo with our kisses.

“I thought you said everything,” I whispered.

His eyes flared wide at my words. “And I meant it. Show me what you want.”

The alcohol silenced my inner panic. In a bold gesture, I pushed his hand lower, lower, lower, over my hip and across the top of my thighs until he was precisely where I wanted him.