Home > Books > Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)(28)

Wait With Me (Wait With Me, #1)(28)

Author:Amy Daws

“I have no idea!” she exclaims and turns to set the pizza down by the beer. Looking back at me, she adds, “I was trying to be a friend. A bro. One of the guys. Au casuale.”

I have to bite back a laugh. “Well, stop it. I’m not going to fuck one of the guys, and with how hot you look in that dress, I’d very much like to fuck you tonight.”

“Hannah is an idiot,” she growls under her breath.

“Who?”

“No one,” she beams and slides her hands down her hips. “So you like my dress?”

I nod, my brows raised at the rosy hue creeping around her cheeks. “I’d like it better on the floor.”

I move in and pull her body against mine, but she pulls back. “Well, it will have to wait because I really am famished.”

I exhale through my nose, a low rumble vibrating in my chest. “Very well.”

We get comfortable on the couch, and Mercedes places a couple of slices on a plate for me. I crack open both of our beers, and we proceed to wine and dine ourselves, Boulder style.

“So how have you been?” I ask as she takes a bite.

“Good! You?”

“Good,” I reply, glancing down at her smooth, bare legs. “What did you do all week?”

Her brows lift curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t see you come into Tire Depot, so I was wondering…where did you write at?” Jesus, Miles, get a grip! Are you seriously jealous of where she’s writing now?

She licks some sauce off her finger before replying. “Well, I’ve been redecorating that upstairs bedroom.”

Suddenly, I notice everything from that bedroom that we had stacked in a pile downstairs is gone. “When did the pod show up? I told you to call me, and I’d help you load it.”

She bites her lip. “It came Wednesday, but it’s fine. I managed.”

“You managed?” I argue, my brows furrowing in disbelief. “Some of that shit was really heavy. How did you manage?”

She looks nervous for a second and straightens her posture to reply, “Lynsey helped. And Dean.”

I sit back a bit, annoyance prickling my scalp. “I told you I’d help you.”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bother,” I snap back, my jaw tight with frustration.

“What’s the big deal?” she retorts, her voice rising defensively.

I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. This is not how I envisioned tonight going. I need to calm the fuck down, or I’m going to ruin both the friends and the benefits part of this arrangement. “Nothing, sorry.” I clear my throat and take another bite of pizza. “So, you redecorated?”

This shift in subject brings a smile to her face. “Yes! It’s looking pretty nice. I even got this new desk that rises and lowers so I can write standing up if I want.”

“Why would you want to write standing up?” I ask, dead serious.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Apparently, it’s healthier. I’ll probably never use it anyway since I can’t seem to get into the writing groove again.”

I shake my head. “Then why didn’t you come back to Tire Depot this week? The coffee still tastes the same. I’ve checked.”

She sets her plate down and reaches for her beer. “I don’t know. It seems…unnecessary now. Overindulgent. I’m frustrated that I can’t write in my own damn house. I redecorated that whole room, and that desk was frickin’ expensive.”

I nod and set my plate down to grab my beer as well. “So is that why you decided tonight was a good night for research?”

She nods and waggles her brows at me. “I thought maybe it’d get my juices flowing, literally.” Her snicker afterward is so adorable, and I feel my own mood lightening with her.

But all humor is lost when I notice a naughty glint in her eyes as she wraps her pink lips around the amber glass and takes a long, cool drink. My body roars to life as memories of last weekend roll in and remind me just how great she feels naked against me.

“Let’s get to work then,” I nearly growl, staring at a liquid droplet of beer on her lower lip.

She swallows and licks it away while looking down at my plate. “You haven’t even finished your pizza.”

“I’m hungry for something else,” I murmur, leaning over and taking her beer from her hand and setting it down on the table next to mine with an audible thud.

When I sit back, I slide myself in closer so our legs are touching. Resting my hand right above her knee, I let my fingers press into her inner thigh and inch up ever so slowly. Her legs squeeze together as my eyes lift to hers. She trembles with an obvious shiver of anticipation.

“Okay, fine, I’m hungry for sex, too,” she mumbles and sucks in a deep breath of air. “But I need to hear what you’re thinking the whole time we do this…you know…for research and stuff.”

“For research and stuff,” I repeat, licking my lips and trying not to smirk.

“This is serious, Miles.”

“Okay,” I acquiesce. “But I have to warn you. I’m probably not going to be the most articulate when I’m buried inside you.”

She swallows slowly and squirms in her seat as my hand inches up a little farther. Her voice is husky when she replies, “You had no problem articulating yourself the night of my party.”

I chuckle at that memory. “Well, those were extenuating circumstances.”

“Were they?” She bites her lip and stares down at my hand that’s now disappeared under her skirt.

“Yes,” I reply with a brazen squeeze of her thigh. “I was sexually frustrated beyond belief. I’d spent weeks watching you flounce into the comfort center looking so fucking sexy and unsuccessfully sneaky.”

“Unsuccessful?” she exclaims defensively.

“Yeah, you weren’t what I’d call stealthy.”

“Shut up.” She giggles, and her lower lip sticks out as she mock sulks.

“Then you kissed me at that bar and rode on the back of my motorcycle. By the night of your party, I was a sexually deprived madman. Then I catch you flirting with that guy—”

“I wasn’t flirting!” she exclaims, shoving me hard in the shoulder.

I pull my hand from under her skirt and use her momentum to pull her onto my lap. She happily obliges, straddling me and resting her hands on my shoulders, mindlessly toying with the neckline of my T-shirt.

I slowly slide my hands up her bare thighs, and the movement has her legs spreading even farther. “I know you weren’t flirting, but I wanted to fuck you so bad I couldn’t think straight.”

She pulls her lips in and rubs them together, seemingly appeased by that response. “Well then, what are we waiting for?” she asks, making fierce eye contact with me as she shamelessly grinds her hips down onto my groin.

My dick develops its own heartbeat as the heat of her center touches my erection. I reach up and cup her face, connecting our lips at last. Her gloss tastes like strawberries, and I swirl my tongue into her parted lips to taste more of her. She combs her fingers into my hair and gives as good as she gets.

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