Page 125 of Till Summer Do Us Part
“Fuck,” I mutter as she pulls away, leaving me in a goddamn daze.
Lazily, I watch as her tongue drags over her lips, keeping her eyes on me the entire time.
Fuck me.
Fuck fucking me.
I’m turned on.
I’m hard.
I’m now desperate for more.
I feel unhinged, and at any point, I might just snap from the need pulsing through me for this woman.
“Next and last chair,” Sanders says.
Clearing my throat, I stand from the chair, adjust myself quickly, and then walk over to the last chair, wondering if this where we end up dry humping. I mean, we’ve built up to thatpoint. I wouldn’t be surprised, and frankly, I’m kind of hoping for it.
“Okay, read your cards,” Sanders calls out.
I reach to the side, grab the card, and then read it out loud as my body buzzes from the kiss we just shared.
“Tell each other your favorite drink.” My brows knit together. “That’s the task? Tell each other our favorite drink?” I look at the back of the card, wondering if this is a trick. Where is the dry humping? Where’s the kissing and fondling? Where’s the “Get naked with your partner and have a good time”? “He’s going to make us go from making out to telling each other our favorite drink? Why?”
“Maybe because you’re parched after making out,” she says.
“Are you parched?”
She just shrugs her shoulders, acting so fucking nonchalant that it actually doesn’t settle well. Because we just made out, tongue and all, and she’s acting like it’s another day in the office. Like our kiss had zero effect on her.
That can’t possibly be true.
Isn’t she buzzing like I am?
Isn’t she ready to move this to the next step?
Doesn’t she want more?
“Well, I guess I’ll lead the conversation since you seem a little stumped.” She taps her chin with her finger and says, “Hmm, you know, I think I’ll have to go with an Arnold Palmer. There’s something about the iced tea, lemonade combination that gets me every time. But it has to be a good ratio, you know? It can’t be too sweet with the lemonade, and the iced tea has to be unsweetened.”
So she’s just going to act like everything is normal and talk about iced tea to lemonade ratios? How?
How is she not inwardly panting?
How does she not look dazed and confused?
How is she not on the verge of licking me all over like I want to lick her?
Claim her.
“What about you?” she asks.
I scratch the back of my head and say, “Uh, I don’t know…Dr Pepper.”
“Really? Kind of thought you would say Coke because of your soda app.”
Shit, she’s right. I can’t even think of my favorite drink, that’s how out of sorts I am.
