“Really?” She sounds genuinely upset.
“Yeah. It starts up and then stops. You can hear it grinding.” I press my ear against the hard drive.
Chandler abandons the ravioli and comes over to my side. She bends down to listen. Her head is so close to mine. I can smell the mint of her gum, the strawberry lotion she buys at the candle store. Her breasts dangle down, swaying right above my hand. I close my fingers into a fist so I don’t accidentally touch her.
“You should’ve just accepted the laptop,” I say quietly.
“I don’t like charity.”
“It’s not charity. It’s my fault you needed it, remember?”
She turns her head and I find that our mouths are inches apart. “I was joking.”
Her lips are so plush and kissable. The lower lip has this tiny divot that invites me to run my tongue along it. A ragged, shaky breath escapes me. I gulp and try to speak. “Chandler.”
“Berk…”
My name comes off her tongue like a plea. My mind doesn’t process what she’s asking, but my body does. The thing is when you have money, generally speaking, there isn’t a thing in the world that’s off-limits. When you do come across something that you can’t have, you have no coping mechanism because you’ve never been told no. That’s how I feel around Chandler—defenseless with no way to deal with all the emotions she stirs inside of me. It should be as easy as seeing, wanting, having, but instead I see, know I can’t have, and live each day with a hunger that can’t be appeased.
And what happens when you wave a piece of meat in front of someone who hasn’t eaten for weeks or months or years? Exactly. I pull her down onto my lap and smother her mouth with mine. Her hands land on my shoulders, light and uncertain. Maybe that should’ve been my signal to stop, but I don’t. I shove my hand into her mass of hair and angle her head so I can penetrate her mouth deeper. I tongue her deeply, tracing every ridge and recess, memorizing her taste, her feel. My other hand grips her ass and pulls her tightly against my rigid cock.
I’m so hard right now and so ready to explode. I start moving her, showing her how to grind against me. She moans into my mouth, and explosions shoot off behind my eyelids. Blood drains from my head to my dick. I want to come so badly. I need to come, but I also want to suck on her tits and stick my head between her legs and lap at her juices until she’s dry. I want to bend her over this table and take her so hard that the wooden legs buckle. I want her to ride me with her tits bouncing in my face. Fuck. My mind is galloping a hundred miles an hour.
I drop my hand out of her hair and reach under her shirt. Her skin feels hot under my palm. I skate up her side. She shivers and leans forward, her tits brushing against my chest.
I clench my ass cheeks together to keep from nutting right then and there. She’s kissing me back, holding my face between her hands. I don’t need to direct her hips anymore. She’s riding me like I’m an old horse she’s been cantering around on for years. We’ve got a rhythm going, her jean-clad pussy rubbing up against my jean-clad dick. I slide my other hand up her back, holding her close to me. My head tips back as she rises above me, her hair falling like a curtain—just like it did with Davis.
Davis.
My brain short-circuits. Davis.
Fuck.
I stand up abruptly, setting her on her feet and then jumping away to face the window. My breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants. I glance down, and there’s a wet spot growing on my jeans. It’s not from me...oh Christ, she was so wet from our messing around she leaked through her jeans. I almost fall to my knees. Instead, I cover my eyes as if somehow I can blot out the image of her, us.
“Get out.”
“This is my house!” she gasps.
“Then go to your room. I can’t look at you.” Because if I do, I will forget that Davis is my best friend and that you’re his girl. If you can’t be strong, then I need to resist for both of us.
“You can’t look at me?” she repeats in disbelief.
I can hear her hurt, and it’s like a knife to my own heart, but if I weaken now, if I give in now, there’s no going back. I’ll carry her to her bedroom, strip off her clothes, and drive my dick so deep inside her pussy that it will be ruined for all other men.
“No. I can’t. Now go.” I don’t hear any movement. “Go!” I roar and then, because staying in her presence for another second is too much temptation, I tear out of the house.