MIA
Oh, my God.
At first, my instinct tells me to push him away. Maybe kick him in the balls before I do. He has no right. He shouldn’t.
And oh, I want him too. Forever. Right here, in this spot, he could kiss me on and on until we both die of dehydration or starvation or whatever comes first. I don’t care. Because the second his hand cupped the back of my head, I knew this was right. This is what was always going to happen. We fought as hard as we could, but it was no use.
So when he forces his tongue between my lips and plunges into my mouth, I meet it with mine. He groans, the rumbling low in his chest, and I’m lost. Completely gone. My hands find his shoulders and press into his unyielding muscles, my need for him strong enough to make my knees shake.
With his free hand, he slides down my back and finally cups my ass, hauling me in closer until our bodies are flush, and I can feel what’s growing in his pants. I’ve never wanted anything more than to reach between us and rub him there, to get him off like he did for me.
But I can’t. Not now, not ever. It takes all the self-control I have to break the kiss, and even then, he nips my bottom lip before letting me go. It tingles in the best way. “What are you doing?” I whisper between gasps of air.
“You couldn’t tell? Am I that out of practice?” He squeezes my ass again, harder this time, and I moan before I can help myself.
I know that will only encourage him, so I take a deep breath and try to come up with a reason he shouldn’t take me here and now. “There are people out there. You can’t do this.”
“Is that all that’s stopping you?” He traces the line of my jaw before stroking my throat. Fire races over my skin, following the path of his fingers like the tail behind a comet. All I want is to lean into his touch and forget everything else. “Send them home.”
“You can’t do this. You can’t screw with me like this.”
“Who said I was screwing around?” With both hands, he takes me by the hips and pulls me tight against the rod in his pants. “I need you. I want you. I’m so fucking tired of pretending I don’t.”
This can’t be happening. Is it a dream? No, I can still hear everybody talking out in the living room. Eventually, somebody will come back here, wondering if I’m okay. I can’t let them see us like this.
“Zeke. Please. Be fair.” I don’t know what makes me reach out and cup his cheek in one hand. Maybe it’s the way I’ve always wondered what his scruff feels like. It’s soft but rough at the same time. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like against my inner thighs.
I’ve had way too much to drink tonight. I had no idea I was this drunk. You’re not drunk. You’re horny. Stop lying
to yourself.
“There’s nothing fair about life, princess.” He looks almost sad when he backs away, turning to check himself out in the mirror above my dresser. Once he adjusts what’s still jutting out from his pants, he leaves the room. Rather than return to the kitchen, he goes to his room and quietly closes the door.
Dear God. I go to the dresser, too, but at first, all I can do is lean against it and finish catching my breath. Holy fuck. What did he mean by having to pretend he didn’t want me? Has he always-
“Hey, you alive in here?” Posey is nice enough to reach around and knock on the open door before peering around the doorframe.
I’m glad Zeke’s gone, at least. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Because the guys out there are getting ready to fight him unless you come out of here looking the way you did before you went in.” She looks me up and down, screwing her lips up in what looks like uncertainty. “What happened?
You look all flushed.”
“Nothing. Really.”
“Are you sure?” She tips her head back, looking toward the living room before turning my way again. “What’s going on with you two? You can tell me.”
“Nothing. Seriously!” I hiss when she smirks.
“Right. The first time I ever saw him, he was about ready to throw you over his shoulder and carry you out of that party. It was almost hot.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It was from where I was standing. And every time I’ve seen him since, he’s been watching you.”
“Watching everybody around me, you mean.”
“No. That’s not what I mean. He watches you.” She uses two fingers to point at her eyes, then to me. “Constantly. All the way. And from where I’m standing, it looks like he’s in love with you.”
“That is not true. Trust me.”
“Well, he wants you. And it’s driving him fucking crazy having Dean here. That’s a big risk. You know how Dean feels about him.”
“Apparently, everybody does, huh?” I roll my eyes. “Nobody quite gets the way it is between us, but believe me, it’s not what you think.”
“You make it sound like there’s more going on, but then turn around and say he doesn’t love you and that nothing is going on between you guys. You’re starting to sound like somebody that’s making excuses for an abuser.”
“Okay, you can stop right there; he’s not abusing me.” I wave my hands around, frustrated because I can’t quite tell her everything. There isn’t enough time. “I had a crush on him for a long time. I made a move, he turned me down. Now we’re here. So yeah, it’s tense and weird.”
“And don’t forget your father would probably kill him if he touched you.”
“I mean, maybe? I don’t know. He trusts Zeke.”
“So long as Zeke doesn’t think of you as a woman.” She winks. “Face it, girl. You’ve got to either tell him nothing is ever going to happen, or you need to fuck his brains out. You can’t keep floating around in limbo, or it’s only going to get more awkward.” Zoe bursts out laughing over something in the living room. “I’m going to go back. Don’t be much longer, or shit will go down.”
Why is it not enough for me to tell Dean he has nothing to worry about, that Zeke isn’t hurting me or holding me prisoner? Hard-headed. Is that the way all men are? Maybe it’s just the men in my life.
I look at myself in the mirror, staring into my own eyes. I need to make a decision one way or another. Posey’s right. Either I shut down the whole thing right now and tell him it’s never going to happen, and he can never kiss me-or anything else-again, or I can fuck his brains out.
Obviously, my body knows what it wants. I’m wet enough that I’m practically dripping, like my body is preparing itself to have what it’s wanted for such a long time.
My brain’s another story.
“Yo, Mia! You coming back or what?” Dean. Another complication. I stand straight, smoothing out my sweater and hair before hurrying out into the hallway.
“I’m coming, jeez. Can’t a girl go to the bathroom?” I roll my eyes, laughing. “Anybody else want a drink? There’s plenty in the cabinet.”