Every Sweet Regret (Orchid Valley 2)

Talk first.

“Why are you going if it’s torture?” I ask. Okay, I’m dodging the point of my visit.

“Because it’s worth it.” Stella smacks her ass with her free hand and grins up at me.

“You’re killing me.” I pull her into the first dark room I see, press her against the wall, and kiss her. I intend to make it quick and then have a conversation about Itsy, but her lips are soft and silky beneath mine. Quick was never a possibility. She threads her fingers into my hair and moans into my mouth. My hands roam down to cup that ass and give it an experimental squeeze. “So worth it.”

She runs her fingertips over my beard and down my neck, and I shudder, remembering how those fingers felt unzipping my jeans, wanting that again, needing more. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she whispers, and my ego grows two sizes. Along with other things. “I think you’ve ruined me.”

I lift her, positioning her between the wall and my body to give me better access to her neck. I trail my lips along her jaw, nip at her earlobe, and suck at the sensitive spot where her neck meets her shoulder. Christ, she smells sweet. “I’ve barely gotten started.”

She bites back a groan and wraps her ankles behind me. I press between her thighs, cursing the man who invented denim. When she pops the button on my jeans, I remember where we are and why I pulled her in here.

Reluctantly, I lower her to the floor. Even in the shadows of the empty treatment room, I can see her swollen lips and the flush on her cheeks. “Sorry about that. I actually brought you in here to talk.”

She leans against the wall and blows out a long breath. I can practically see her steeling herself for rejection. “Okay . . .”

I probably shouldn’t touch her again until we talk this out, but I find myself brushing a knuckle down the side of her neck anyway. For so much of my life, Stella’s been off-limits—forbidden fruit—and now that I’ve crossed the line and had a taste, I want more.

I trail my finger over the swell of her breasts and across her nipple. I can’t stop touching her. I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop thinking about Itsy making me laugh and how I keep imagining Stella’s smile when I read her words.

God, it’s crazy to think, but what if Stella is Itsy? It’s probably wishful thinking, but . . . “What picture do you use for your profile on Random these days?”

She frowns at me. “You’ve seen it already, haven’t you?”

I want to say, “Not that I know of.” I shake my head instead.

“The one of me in the yellow dress? Ring any bells?”

Disappointment is a heavy rock dropped in my stomach. “Right, that one.” Not Jessica Rabbit.

“You came in here to ask about my profile picture?”

“No. Actually . . .” I shake my head, feeling foolish. “Before we do anything else, I want to make sure you’re okay with this not being exclusive.” Fuck, this is awkward. In writing or in person, it’s just a weird conversation to have.

“Don’t obsess.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve been honest about what this is from the start.”

“I want you, but if you decide you can’t do this casual thing with me, then there’s no pressure to—”

“Kace.” She laughs, and the sound makes me feel a hundred pounds lighter. “I was ready to have you take me against the wall in the room where they do laser hair removal. It’s safe to say I’m still on board.”

“Right. Shit.” I blow out a breath and drag a hand through my hair. “You probably think I’m a freak now. I just don’t . . .” I swallow. “I want this, but I don’t want you to end up hurt.”

Something changes in her expression for a beat, but it fades away before I can read it. She steps forward and presses her lips to the center of my chest, right at the solar plexus. “I don’t think you’re a freak. I think you’re sweet. Maybe the sweetest guy I’ve ever known.” She pulls back, tugs the band from her hair, and redoes her ponytail. I must’ve messed it up without realizing it. “I’ve gotta get to class, or Savvy’s gonna kick my ass.”

Right. I was so focused on getting my mouth on her again that I totally forgot she was on her way somewhere. “Come to my house tonight. Hope’s with her mom, and I . . .” I drag my gaze over her. Her nipples have pebbled under her tank top. Don’t obsess? I already know I’ll spend the next hour obsessing over how they’d feel against my tongue. “Just come over?”