Unexpected

“How difficult would it be for you to pretend I’m one of those girls?” she whispers. That lip of hers slips between her teeth again. She’s nervous. I am too, but I have a feeling it's for a different reason.

“What girls?”

Ellie closes her eyes and sucks in a breath. I wait, feeling my heart ravage my rib cage, and wonder if she can feel it too. If she can tell how excited I am to finally have her in my arms. When she opens her eyes again, that bottom lip is quivering. “The girls you bring home. Could you pretend I’m one of them and…” She lets out a shaky breath. “And touch me?”

I clench my teeth and exhale through my nose. This girl, she’s trying to kill me. My restraint can only last so long, but instead of being as tormented as I anticipated, my stomach twists. Liam must have fucked with Ellie’s head hard if she thinks I would choose another girl over her. She’s beautiful. I just wish she knew that.

I push her honey-colored locks back from her face. I want to see her eyes. I want her to look into mine, and find the truth of my words. “I don’t have to pretend, Ellie.”

She looks at me through hooded eyes and grins. “Really?”

“Ellie,” I cup her cheek with my hand. Tomorrow is going to suck. Tomorrow I have to live knowing what those lips taste like. I didn’t think twice about claiming them at the party. People were around, so I could easily chalk up our embrace as a performance. Here, though, it's just me and her. There is no excuse I could make up to justify how much I want to taste her mouth again. “You’re gorgeous. I would choose you over any other girl in the world every day of the week.”

Ellie gasps. Her beautiful brown eyes search mine, probably for a sign that I’m lying or doing what guys do. You know, saying what they think girls want to hear to get them into bed.

I refuse to blink. I want her to know I mean every word. My eyes burn with the need to close them but I don’t.

Ellie smiles again and presses her mouth to mine. I let my eyes drift closed and fall into her lips. I could kiss this girl for hours and never come up for air. I move my hand from her cheek to the base of her neck and thread my fingers through her hair. She moans and shifts on top of me.

I rest my hands on her hips. Ellie sits up and flips her hair. Her back arches, hips rocking over mine, and I grunt. Jesus, this girl feels good.

Ellie leans down to kiss me again. She shifts her hips and rubs herself along my hard length. My fingers dig into her skin, guiding her, knowing at some point I need to put a stop to this. I’m not breaking her rule. We are over the clothes, but I don’t want Ellie to do anything she’ll regret in the morning.

Even with the thin cotton barriers between us, the friction is intense. Pressure builds in my balls. If I don’t end this now, I’m going to come in my pants like a fucking twelve-year-old.

Ellie’s body shakes with pleasure and she groans into my mouth. “Holy shit.”

I swallow hard as she pulls back and gaze into her hooded eyes. This is the defining moment. She has this look, like a feral cat in heat ready to pounce. I’m going to have the worst case of blue balls, but I can’t sleep with her. Not yet. Not like this.

Ellie scoots down my thigh and reaches for the band of my boxers. I take her wrist between my fingers. She looks down at me, head slightly cocked to the side. “Not tonight.”

“But…” She pouts, not bothering to finish her sentence. Her bottom lip quivers as tears pool behind her eyes. She thinks I don’t want her, but she couldn’t be more wrong.

I sit up and wrap my arms around her waist. I look into her eyes and hope to God she’s not so drunk she can’t understand why I’m saying this. “Ask me tomorrow, when you’re sober. That way I know this is what you want.”

“But I want you.” Ellie cups her hands behind my head. My skin vibrates with need. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but it would be wrong to take her like this.

“Good. Then we’re going to have a great day tomorrow.” I tilt my head to taste Ellie’s lips again. This kiss is short and to the point. A goodnight kiss.

I roll her onto the mattress and hold her body against mine. She curls into me, molding to fit. I close my eyes, knowing I’ll dream of her face. Every night my mind torments me with what could have been if I wasn't an idiot all those years ago, and every day I wake knowing it was just a dream.

Tonight is different.

Tonight, the girl I’ve loved since before I understood what this feeling was is in my arms, and it’s better than anything I could have imagined.

I groan and pull the covers over my face. There’s a pounding at the door. Or maybe it’s in my head. Either way, it sucks.

Asher’s arm is across my waist. It’s warm and heavy and, as soon as I realize it’s there, nervous flutters consume me. He pulls me tight against his body and grunts. I think he’s still asleep so I don’t move to wake him. This used to be my favorite part about mornings, waking up in Liam’s arms. Being here with Asher is like a twisted deja vu. It’s almost comforting, even with his morning wood pressing against my thigh.

Someone bangs against the door again. This time, there's no denying the sound isn't in my head. “Get your fucking slut out of my house, Asher.”

Asher’s fists curl around the fabric of my shirt. His shirt. He releases me and pushes out of bed.

“Stay here,” he warns without so much as looking at me. Asher’s fingers unlock his door with precision. The slide of the chain and flick of the lock on the doorknob takes less than a second. I was too drunk last night to question all the locks, but I think I understand. That man outside the door, the one banging against it like he’s trying to break it down, must be Asher’s stepdad. From the looks of things, I don’t think they like each other much.

I slip out of Asher’s shorts and pull on my jeans, listening to the conversation in the hallway. I don’t bother changing my shirt. The only reason I’m fussing with my bottoms is so the gym shorts don’t fall off when I stand up.

“Get your slut out of my house, boy,” Asher’s stepdad says. I think Asher said his name was Clint. Whatever it is, the man sounds drunk, which I shouldn’t judge, because the way my head is spinning, I think I might still be too.