Dear Heart, I Hate You - Page 57

He could not be this perfect. “Are you sure?” I felt a little guilty, but the offer was more than appealing.

“Go.” He pushed me away gently before saying, “Wait. Take this.” He handed me my refilled wineglass, and I did as he asked.

When I emerged from the bathroom in my pajamas, I was only marginally surprised to find Cal lying on my bed with the TV on. His eyes locked onto mine and I looked away, as if I was shy all of a sudden. Glancing down at my tiny shorts and tank, I padded my way across the wood floors toward the bed.

Cal didn’t look away, his eyes still firmly focused on mine. When I reached the bed, I snuggled as close to him as possible. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled my head onto his chest, the feeling od

dly familiar after being away from each other for so long. He ran his fingers through my hair as I splayed my hand across his rib cage, drawing lazy circles with my thumb.

“Thank you again for dinner.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to the top of my head.

I craned my neck to look up at him. “It was my pleasure. Truly.”

And it was. It had been. I’d never been the type before, but I realized that I enjoyed taking care of Cal, doing nice things for him. Something about it made me feel good.

We tried to kiss but it was awkward, the angle all wrong. He moved from under me, his body and mine switching places before he hovered above me. I stared at his lips as they moved closer to mine, and closed my eyes. When our mouths touched, so soft at first, the air filled with the intimacy of it all.

“I missed you so much,” he breathed into me, our lips never breaking contact.

“Me too. Every single day,” I admitted, not caring if it was too much, too soon. It was how I felt.

He pulled away slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “So honest.”

He’d said that more than once to me before and I’d never questioned it, although I was always a little uncertain about what he might mean by it.

When I reached around his back, trying to pull him down on top of me, he lowered himself, careful not to crush me as he settled his weight on me. My hips lifted slightly, moved in their own rhythm, wanting this, wanting him.

“Look at me,” Cal said, and I opened my eyes to a sea of hazel. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, and his lips crushed against mine as if he’d been holding back since he arrived at the airport. He kissed me deep and hard before moving to my neck and nipping at my skin.

“I want you so bad,” he said, almost breathless. “But I’ll wait if you’re still not ready.”

“Shut up, Cal. You know damn well I’m ready.” I tried to sound tough, but I wanted him as badly as he wanted me, if not more.

It was all the permission he needed. He dropped next to me on his side, his arm wrapped around my back as he pulled me against him, his grasp firm. He kissed me everywhere, as if he was afraid I might change my mind if he stopped. And when his lips met mine, I lost all train of thought. I could only think of his mouth, his tongue, and what it did to the zoo that apparently lived inside me.

I watched as he moved his attention to my knit shorts, his fingers working the elastic from my hips. I scooted from side to side as he pulled them over my hips, and when he slid them down my legs, he left a trail of kisses behind.

Another moan came from him when he saw my black lace panties. His body settled on top of mine before he reached for my underwear, his fingertips brushing a light trail down my stomach first. After moving the material to one side, he slid his fingers in, touching and toying with my most private area, exploring it like it was a treasure map.

I waited for him to make some comment the way men normally tended to, but was relieved at his silence. His fingers inched closer toward my sex, and when he pushed one inside me, I sucked in a small breath as my body accepted it with ease. I moaned with the pleasure it incited in me, and he worked it slowly in and out before another finger. My back arched at the sensation, and he kissed my neck.

Reaching in the tight space between the mattress and my back, he tugged my tank top over my head. He stared at my bare breasts for only a moment before settling his mouth around one nipple, sucking it between his perfect lips. He worshiped my breasts, his mouth moving back and forth between them in equal pleasurable measure, licking, sucking, and nibbling. I clutched at his back, hitting the top of his sweatpants, and I fumbled with the snug waistband. Not wanting to stop what we were doing for even a second, I used my toes to grip at his pants and tugged them down.

Cal wriggled them off and kicked them to the floor, and rather than touching me right away, focused on my reaction to seeing him without pants for the first time. His penis stood erect behind his boxer briefs, twitching as if begging me to set it free. It looked beastly beneath the material, like a wild animal trying to escape its cage. I wanted to keep it trapped for a moment longer, but I also wanted to give it a personal hello. I gripped around its girth through the material and moved up and down gently, trying not to hurt him.

He moaned, closing his eyes as his mouth dropped open, and I leaned in, my mouth claiming his. I was addicted to that mouth, obsessed with those lips. I couldn’t breathe without them; they were my everything.

Cal grabbed me and tossed me back on the bed, both of us wearing nothing but our underwear. His dick hit my thigh and I lifted my hips, trying to grind on him, liking the way it felt against me, even with fabric between us.

“Don’t move like that or you’ll end it before we begin,” he warned.

I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. “I don’t want to wait anymore,” I said, practically begging.

“You sure?”

“Cal—” I moved my hips against him. “Yes.”

Tags: J. Sterling Romance
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