Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts 4)

“You don't have to carry me,” she laughs, her cheeks flushed.

“Maybe not, but I’m going to.” I click the button on the elevator and wait impatiently. “So, you come here often?” I joke, filling in the awkward silence.

She giggles, her cheeks glowing red.

“You're so cute when you blush,” I tease her. “Anyone would think you like me or something.”

“Don't flatter you

rself,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “I’d blush at any random man who was carrying me back to his room.”

“So this happens often, does it?”

“No more than once a week,” she quips, her eyes sparkling.

“And what about this?” I ask softly. “How often does this happen?” I tilt my head up, my lips gently touching hers. I groan as her grip on my neck tightens. She pulls me closer, towards her. I lean in again, my heart pounding as I press my mouth against hers. This time I’m not walking away. Kissing her is exactly like I thought it would be, only her lips taste sweeter. I gaze into her eyes, wondering why the hell it took me so long to do that.

.

I carry her back to my room and I lay her on the bed. “Can I get anything for you? Food? A drink? An illegal substance?” I joke. The way she looks, lying on that bed in her skimpy blue top and tight jeans, is turning me on. All I want to do is wrap myself around her and pick up where we left off.

“What kind of drugs you offering?” she laughs. “Can you get me some weed?”

“Weed?” I repeat with a grin. This girl never ceases to amaze me. “In a foreign country? Sure, let me just go down to the corner and hold up a sign saying ‘arrest me, I’m looking for drugs’.”

“A simple ‘no’ would suffice,” she says, poking her tongue out at me. “Do me a favour. In my handbag, there's some painkillers.”

I grab the bottle from her bag and unscrew it. I hand her two, which she washes down with a mouthful of water before settling back on the bed.

“Lay down with me?” she whispers.

I crawl onto the bed beside her, snaking my arm around her waist. She sighs, and even in the darkness I know that she’s smiling. I wrap my hand around hers and gently kiss the back of her head.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

“Then you’re hanging out with the wrong people,” she jokes.

I chuckle and pull away, just enough to draw circles on her back.

“God, that feels good.”

“Take your shirt off,” I say. I feel her hesitation and chuckle. “I’ll be a gentleman, I promise. It will feel a thousand times better against your bare skin.”

She obliges, slipping her shirt over her head.

“Wow, you’re right,” she mumbles, her words barely coherent. She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra. I help it fall over her shoulders, my fingers circling over her soft skin. With every touch she squirms, her body inadvertently pressing against my own.

A groan escapes my lips as she gently grinds against me, making me harden. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to turn me on. If that’s her plan, it’s working. I slip my arm under her waist and pull her further into my arms.

She turns her head, just enough so our faces are almost touching. I stare into her eyes, willing myself not to kiss those lips, no matter how much I want to. It will make things so much harder. She tilts her head, pressing her mouth against mine. I groan again, my hand caressing her face as I kiss her harder. She tastes amazing.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I mutter.

“You’re not,” she assures me.

That’s all I needed to hear. I unbutton her jeans and ease her out of them, flinging them aside as her fingers entwine around mine. She lowers my hand, down over her stomach, resting it over her panties.

“Touch me,” she whispers.