Page 137 of Till Summer Do Us Part
And because I want her to be the one to make the move, because I want her to be the one who loses control, I pull away. Her eyes lift to mine, and I can see it, right there in her dilated pupils. She wants me. She just doesn’t know how to claim me.
Time to show her how.
“Come on,” I say as I slip my hands from her shirt and take her hand again. This time, I lead her toward our cabin. It’s a fast-paced walk, not stopping for anything or anyone. When I reach the cabin, I unlock the door for the both of us and then hold it open for her to walk in first. Then I follow in behind her and lock up.
When she turns to face me, I reach behind my head and pull my shirt off, dropping it on the floor. Her eyes immediately eat me up, which is exactly what I was hoping for. I want her to be tempted. I want to push her to a limit of no return, because I know she wants this. She just needs to learn to be more assertive.
She needs to learn that it’s okay to give in to her feelings.
To take what she wants.
That I’m not going to shame her.
Or block her from finding satisfaction.
Or play games with her emotions.
I move over to the bed, where I kick off my shoes and socks, and then sit up against the headboard.
“Scottie.”
Her body turns to face me again.
“Huh?”
I take my time, giving her a long once-over, allowing my gaze to roam every inch of her body before I reach her eyes and say, “Strip for me.”
“Wh-what?” she asks, shocked, but with a hint of intrigue.
“You heard me. Strip for me.”
“I…I don’t…um, that’s not something?—”
“I know it’s not something we do. But that kiss just now, that changed everything. The relationship is different now. The intensity between us just became heavier…hotter. So…strip for me. Get fucking naked.”
She bites down on the corner of her lip, and I can actually see her contemplating whether she will or not. So I decide to give her courage. I reach down to my jeans and unbutton and unzip them, letting them flap open.
“I’m halfway there. Join me, Scottie.”
She waits, tugging on her shirt, looking nervous but also intrigued.
So I say, “Don’t make me beg, Pips.”
She still doesn’t move, which makes me feel insane. I know she fucking wants this.
So I slowly walk up to her. I grip her jaw and tilt her head back so she has to look at me. “If you won’t strip and show me how fucking beautiful you are, then strip me down. Take off my pants. I know you want to. You want to know what kind of piercing I have. Admit it.”
She wets her lips.
“Admit it,” I say again with a little more gruffness behind it.
“I…I do,” she finally says, allowing her wall to lower.
And I take full advantage of it.
“Then find out,” I say as I place her hands on my waist, but I don’t force her. I let her decide whether she’s going to do it or not.
There’s a momentary pause, but after a few agonizing seconds, she slides her hands around my waist, and her fingers dip past the waistband of my jeans.
