Under Pressure
Page 5

His arm goes around me, and he’s rubbing my side, a long slow sweep, that brushes along my outer breast. My nipples tighten painfully, begging for his hand, his mouth. His head turns, and with enough light shining in through the mouth of the cave, I can see the turbulence in his eyes. His jaw clenches and he turns away. His breathing has changed, become more erratic.
“Cole?”
He scrubs his chin and exhales sharply, less composed than I’ve ever seen him. “Yeah.”
Trembling with a need so foreign to me, I lean into him, even though every instinct I possess is screaming in warning.
“You okay?” I ask, positive neither of us is currently in our right minds. Must be something in the air. Has to be. We’ve never acted like this around each other before.
“I don’t think so,” he says as heat simmers between us. The cave is suddenly so hot I can’t breathe.
He turns my way, shifts his body until we’re both sitting crossed-legged facing each other. His hand goes to my cheek, a soft touch as he slides his big palm around my neck.
“Reese,” he whispers, but before I can say anything, he dips his head and his lips close over mine, warm and soft, yet hungry and demanding. His tongue slides into my mouth, and when it finds mine, it steals the last of my breath and all of my common sense. A moan I have no control over crawls from my throat, and he deepens the kiss—hot and firm, taking full control. I’ve kissed Cole before, but never, ever like this.
He drags me onto his lap and his cock—a rock-hard cock, thank you very much—presses against my ass as I let my legs fall over his outer thighs. My knees hit the ground as I straddle him and shamelessly gyrate on his lap. I’m acting like some desperate girl who hasn’t had sex in ages, a girl who would—and is—jumping on the first man to present her with a hard-on. But I don’t care because it’s true. I am a desperate girl, and I need this.
His fingers tighten on my hips and when he powers upward, I move with him, hardly able to believe I’m dry-humping my best friend in the middle of a goddamn haunted cave. We shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t be doing this.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know,” he says. “We shouldn’t.”
Shit, did I say that out loud? Shut your damn mouth, Reese. You know you want this, even if it’s wrong.
His hand slides to my shoulders and presses down, grinding his cock harder against me. He moans into my mouth, his tongue brushing over my bottom lip, tasting me, savoring me. I grip his hair, swiftly run my fingers through it, wanting to touch every inch of him before we both come to our senses. I can’t understand this pull between us, this need clawing at my insides, demanding to be sated. Is it the same for him? I have little time to think about that as warm heat floods me, and I swear to God if he doesn’t strip me naked and touch every inch of me in the next five minutes, I might just die. Then I’ll be the one haunting the damn cave forever.
“Cole,” I whisper, a desperate sort of ache in my voice.
He breaks the kiss and when he pulls back, we’re both left breathless. Guilt flashes in his eyes. “Fuck, you’re right. Sorry.”
I shake my head because he’s mistaken the desperation he’s heard. It wasn’t for him to stop. It was for him to continue. But this is wrong and we shouldn’t be doing it. But why, oh why, does it feel so right?
“Cole,” I say again, my lust-buzzed mind trying to string a sentence together.
“Yeah.”
“Why…why did you kiss me?” I ask, not only because I need to say something, but because, deep inside, I’m curious about this sudden need we’re displaying.
His gaze moves over my face, a careful assessment. He must see the want in my eyes because his expression changes from apologetic to hungry. “I was helping you out,” he whispers, his voice playful as he brushes his thumb over my cheek, the intimacy in his touch going right through me.
“Helping me out?” I ask, playing along, desperately wanting to see where this leads. “With what?” Not that I care. I just like this intimate conversation, the way his warm breath is washing over my face as we talk, not to mention the way his big hands are touching me with such soft recognition, tugging my shirt out from my shorts.
“A list of things, really,” he murmurs.
“Oh, okay.” A moment of silence and then, “Will it require more kissing?”
He brushes my hair from my shoulder. His fingers burn over my quivering flesh. “Yeah, but that’s not all it will require.”
“No.”
“No, I’m going to have to do things to you, Reese. Dirty things.”
Oh. My. God. I’m seriously dying here. Cole is going to do dirty things to me! I shouldn’t be this happy. I really shouldn’t. This could be so bad for our friendship. But, holy hell, the heat between my legs is telling me not to think too hard on that right now. Not when there are other hard things I should be thinking about.
“What…what kind of dirty things?” I ask, loving the direction this is going, despite my best interests.
“I’m going to take these clothes off you and kiss every inch of your body.”
Alrighty, then. I didn’t see that coming, but I always did love the man’s spontaneity.
“Okay.”
Okay? That’s all I can come up with? Then again, how can I possibly counter with a witty comeback? My body is on fire, burning up, under terrible pressure. If he doesn’t touch me soon, I’m afraid something might blow.
Blow.
Oh God, why did that word pop into my rattled brain? Probably because I can’t stop thinking about his cock, the long length of it, the hardness, and the way it pressed against me on the boat—the way it’s pressing against my ass right freaking now. I should not be lusting after my best friend. If I knew what was good for me, I’d tap out right now and shove this crazy need so far back in my mind that it never sees the light again.
Walk away, girl. Just walk away.
I blink up at him innocently and continue to play along. “Then what?”
So much for doing what’s good for me.
“Then I’m going to put my cock inside you.”
I quiver at his bluntness. I’ve never heard Cole talk like this before—playful and sexy—and I can’t deny that it’s damn exciting.