I’M A LITTLE TOO HIGH and a lot too horny for this conversation, for the stone-hard thigh pressing against me, for the heat coming off his body and smothering my resistance. I try to sit up, hoping it will clear my head so I can make my escape, but his hand presses gently into my chest, just above the swell of my breasts, compelling me back into the cushion. His lips hover over mine, and I will him to kiss me because I’ll make the first move if he doesn’t. After years of not moving, I have no idea how I’ll explain that once the smoke clears.
Sometimes at night after the chaos dies, I think about our first kiss at the top of a Ferris wheel. Just like then, his lips start soft, brushing mine like wings in sweet sweeps, coaxing me open and delving into me. Sampling me, he groans into my mouth and chases my tongue. The rough palm of his hand cups my face, angling me so he can dive deeper. He doesn’t come up for air, but keeps kissing me so deeply I can’t breathe. He tastes so good, I’ll choose him over air as long as I can. Why is it never like this with anyone else? I want it to be so badly, but it never is.
He releases my lips to scatter kisses down my neck. My back arches and my nipples go tight. He knows that’s my spot. After all this time, he still knows. My neck is so incredibly sensitive, a gateway to the rest of my body.
“You taste exactly the same.” His words come on a labored breath in my ear. “Do you know how long it’s been since I kissed you?”
Eight years.
“Eight years.” He shakes his head, eyes riveting mine in light lent by candles and the moon. “And you taste exactly the same.”
His words shiver through me, searching out my nerve endings; invading my bones. If I don’t get out of here, we’ll be fucking on the rooftop before I can draw another breath.
“I should go.” I slide from under him, scooting down the couch as far as I can without falling off. “This is why I don’t smoke weed.”
I force a laugh, hoping he’ll let me get away with it. I scoop my hair behind my ears and drop my chin to my chest. When I glance over at him, displeasure clumps his brows and tightens his mouth.
“It’s not the weed, Bristol.” His glance slices through the haze hanging in the air. “It’s us. Don’t pretend it’s not us.”
“There is no us.” My feet explore the floor, searching in the dark for my shoes. “You know that.”
He puts a staying hand on my knee until I look at him.
“What I know is that neither of us has been in a serious relationship in years.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” I stand and slide my feet into the Jimmy Choos. “You haven’t exactly been waiting around, have you?”
“Damn right I haven’t been waiting around.” He doesn’t get up, but his firm hold on my wrist stops me from walking away. “I’m not Rhyson.”
I look down at him, frowning my confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Remember when Kai put Rhyson in the friend zone?”
Of course I do. For a long time my sister-in-law Kai denied the attraction between her and Rhyson.
“Yeah, so?”
“When Kai wasn’t checking for Rhys, I assumed he had to be sleeping with other girls.” Grip shrugs. “I mean, he and Kai were just friends. But, nope. He said he only wanted Kai and didn’t sleep with anyone else.”
“Then you’re right.” I tug at my wrist, but he holds on tight. “You’re definitely not Rhyson.”
“It was months, Bristol. She shut him out for months. Not years.”
“I’m not shutting you out.” I release a tired breath. “I’m living my life and you’re living yours.”
“Right.” He nods and turns his mouth down at the corners. “So if you won’t be with me then I’ll fuck whoever the hell I want. If you have a problem with that, you know what to do about it.”
For a moment, our eyes tangle in the dimness. His words sink into my flesh like briars. Every word out of his mouth only proves that I’m right to get out of here. That I’m right not to give in. If I ever gave him a chance and he fucked around on me . . . I’ve seen what that looks like. It looks like a woman as strong as my mother reduced to pathetic, teary drunkenness.
“It’s none of my business.” I shift my eyes away from him and to the glittering city skyline just beyond the rooftop.
“It’s none of your business until you say it is.”
I force myself to look back.
“Don’t hold your breath, Grip.” I say my next words with deliberation. “I mean, it’s not like I’m sitting around saving it, either.”
He pulls me toward him, and I stop myself from falling with my knee on the couch, my hand pressed to the hardness of his chest.
“Are you poking me?” One strong hand wraps around the back of my thigh, anger marking his expression. “Do you want to know if it bothers me when you fuck other guys?”
I just stare at him unblinkingly. He presses my leg, urging me forward until I’m fully on the couch, fully on him, one knee on either side of his legs, facing him. Practically straddling him.
“It makes me want to set the world on fire.” His words come softly, but the truth roars in his eyes. “To think of you with them.”