All Over You (Unforgettable You, Book 1.5) (11 page)

His tongue parries with mine as I wrap my arms around his neck, trying unsuccessfully to get closer. The front seat of a car is not the most comfortable place to make out. But he’s holding and kissing me, and right now that’s all that matters. My body’s reaction to him is seen in the beading of my nipples and the growing moisture between my legs.

I become lost in the drugging kiss, pulling his bottom lip into my mouth and running my tongue over the wet, pink flesh. Groaning against my mouth, his hand trails down my side. When it reaches the hem of my sweater, he pushes underneath where my skin feels hot to the touch.

A moment later the upward press of his hand is pushing the flimsy cups of my bra up and away from my breasts. I gasp in pleasure when he encloses the right one in his hand. The flick of his thumb across my nipple sends a jolt of lust from my breast to my core. Panting, he breaks the kiss and buries his face in the crook of my shoulder, his breath labored and harsh against my neck. “God, Becca.” He gently squeezes my breast and continues his relentless thumbing of the hardened tip.

A part of me knows that unless I want to end up on my back in the back seat with my panties around my ankles, I need to end this right now. But that part of me is fighting my body, which is pushing for the satisfaction of having him inside me. Pounding into me.

Before I can react to my warring parts, he pushes my sweater far up enough to expose my breasts to the cool night air and sucks the tip into his mouth. The throbbing between my thighs goes from hanging-by-the-nails tolerable to excruciating pleasure-pain. My gasp of pleasure ends in a shuddering moan, my hand cradling the back of his head to keep him there—as if he were going anywhere.

The exquisite torture of him sucking and his tongue circling my nipple lasts several minutes. By the time he’s finished with one breast and starts on the other, I’m almost gone. But it’s that brief cessation that brings a moment of clarity to my beleaguered senses.

“
Scott,” I gasp, trying to push his head away before he can reach his intended goal. “We can’t.” Especially not in the front seat of his car. I send a brief thanks to God that we aren’t in my apartment because I’m not sure I would have had the strength to call a halt with a bed a short walk down the hall.

Both breasts exposed to his burning gaze—and to anyone who happens to be peeking in his car windows—he stills, his mouth inches from my reddened nipple. His breathing is harsh and ragged, as is mine. It’s as if we’ve both just run the last leg of the New York City Marathon.

It takes a good thirty seconds before he gets himself under control and that’s when he finally looks up at me. Hunger banks the heat in his eyes. With more willpower than I can even credit myself, he fixes my bra in place and pulls down my sweater while I watch on, bemused and unfulfilled.

“
That got out of hand,” he says hoarsely as he shifts fully back into his seat. I quickly follow his lead, readjusting my bra in an effort to get it comfortably back in place.

“
Yeah, I guess it did,” I say when I feel like I’m properly put back together. At least on the outside, inside my stomach is churning and the throbbing between my legs still hasn’t subsided.

Scott sends me a look that starts at my chest. My nipples, which are still making a marked imprint on my sweater, further harden under his heated gaze. From there, his eyes lift to my mouth, where they darken and narrow. My throbbing intensifies and from the pronounced bulge in his crotch, he’s still just as turned on as I am.

I hastily look away and try to think about anything but that. Sex. Delicious mind-blowing sex that we used to have. Like the sex we had ten days ago.

“
Well, I’d better be going.” I make a move to open the car door.

“
I’ll see you up.” Dark and low, Scott’s voice is a heady combination of arousal and sexual frustration.

He’s already out the door and walking around to the passenger side when I plant my feet on the ground. “You don’t—”

“
Becca,” he warns, his tone implacable.

My mouth snaps closed at that. I let him escort me to my apartment. At the door, he kisses me once, softly on the lips. Weak with need, I start to sink into the kiss when he abruptly ends it.

He rests his forehead against mine and inhales deeply. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he’s gone and not toward the elevator but to the stairs. I live on the fourth floor. Obviously, he has energy he needs to expend. Right, and so do I.

I can see this is going to be a long night.

CHAPTER TEN

S
COTT

Becca and I are sitting in the nearly empty coffee shop on campus forty minutes before closing time when the subject of the fall mid-term break comes up.

“Are you doing anything over the break?” she asks, sounding tentative.

There hadn’t been anything tentative about Becca when we’d gone out before. But then, as I’ve realized the last three weeks, my girlfriend has changed. She’s not allowing herself to get too close. To me. Which is frustrating as fuck.

But I’m the picture of patience. Or I hope that’s how I’m coming across. I’m trying but it’s hard though. It feels like I’m living in a constant state of sexual frustration. Our make-out sessions never go beyond kissing and some heavy petting. I’ve redefined torture as going home after every date with a brutal case of blue balls. Sometimes I get the feeling that she’s doing this to test me. You know, how far I’ll go to prove myself to her.

I shrug. “Not sure. Was going to ask you what you have planned.” I was thinking that either I can go home with her or we can both stay here and hang out. We’re both carrying full course loads and she works at the library three days a week so we don’t get to see each other as much as I want.

A small smile plays over her lips. For a moment, I lose my train of thought watching them, remembering the last time I tasted them. “Zach suggested we all go up to Canada. Montreal. He says the skiing is pretty good up there.”

My brows go up. Canada? Montreal? Not a place that instantly comes to mind when we’re talking travel destinations but it makes sense. Especially because it’s so close. “Are
you
asking me to go because I know the ‘we’ you’re talking about didn’t include me.” Zach may have saved my ass but I’m not sure our relationship—such as it is—has progressed to the point where he’s inviting me to spend mid-term break with him and his friends.

“Yes, I am asking if you want to go. Only, it’s not going to change our situation. We’re still not—well you know.”

Right. No sex.

“Yeah, I got ya,” I say, nodding.

“Zach’s brother leases a place near a ski resort and he’s not going to be able to use it this year so…”

I’m not a Cowboy fan but I love the game and Zach’s brother is good. I mean like Steve Young, Troy Aikman, Brett Favre good. Better actually. The guy’s a football god. Everyone who’s worked with him says he’s also a great guy. Maybe that’s why Zach used to be such a dick. Look what he has to live up to.

Do I want to spend my vacation at his place with my super-hot girlfriend who I’m crazy about? Yeah. I think I could work with that.

“Sure I’ll go.” I say with a casual shrug.

Hell yeah, I wanna go. Sex or no sex, vacation with Becca is all good.

She flashes a smile of relief as if me saying yes had been in question. “Great, now they’ll be six of us and I won’t be the odd girl out—so to speak,” she says with a laugh.

Huh? She invited me along to even the numbers? I can’t tell you how well that’s
not
sitting with me. And by the guilty look on her face, I’m an easy read.

“Okay, that didn’t come out right. I
do
want you there and I wanted to go but it’ll be Olivia and Zach, and April and Troy so…”

“Hold up, I didn’t know April and Troy were a couple.” Though to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me. April is hot as hell and Troy would be an idiot if he kept things with her strictly in the friend zone.

“They’re not.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Then I don’t get it.”

“They’re not a couple but they’ve been friends for like a billion years. Believe me, if the five of us went, I’d be the third wheel.”

“Well, I’m glad to have two purposes—one as your boyfriend and the guy who evens the numbers.”

She makes a face at me, teasing. I can’t help but smile in return. It seems like forever since she’s been this playful. I’m encouraged that we might finally be getting back to that place we were before the pregnancy scare. Before I fucked things up.

“The chalet is paid for but we’ll have to pay for our own food, transportation and ski rentals. It has four bedrooms, so either you and Troy will have to share a room or me and April. I say we flip for it.”

“Or what if
we
shared a room?”

Becca’s blue eyes go wide. After recovering from a moment of shock, she shakes her head, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile. “Uh no. I don’t see that working.”

I lean across the table until our faces are inches apart. “Why not, it’s not like we’ve never slept together before.”

Heat flares in her eyes as her gaze drops briefly to my mouth. Licking her lips, she replies, “Yeah, but that was before.”

“Scared you won’t be able to resist me?” I tease but I’m serious as a heart attack.

Indignation flashes in her eyes and she falls neatly into my trap. “No,” she snaps. “Actually I’m more worried about you.”

This is too easy.

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my arms over my chest “Hey, you don’t need to worry about me. I can keep my hands to myself.” Just barely.

“Yeah right. But if I—”

“
If
you gave me the go ahead, of course I wouldn’t turn you down. I’m not crazy. But have I crossed the line yet? Even once?” Technically no. But we’ve both been dancing on the line the last few weeks. And I know it. The fact that she won’t look me in the eye tells me she knows it too.

“Scott…”

I can tell she’s going to try to appeal to my logical self. I’m not sure I have that much logic when it comes to her.

Scooting up in the chair, I grab both her hands in mine and stare deep into her eyes. “Listen, you know I’d never force you. And I know you’d never force me.” This elicits a reluctant laugh from her. “No seriously, it’s just sleeping. If you say no sex then we’ll only be sleeping. And if you really don’t think we can handle it, then why the hell are we still denying ourselves something we both want?”

From her expression, I can see her weakening.

“Let’s try it for one night. If we can’t do it, then I’ll share a room with Troy or sleep on the sofa. I’m sure the place has one of those, right?”

It feels like forever before she finally responds. “Okay, we’ll try it for one night.”

I don’t even know how tense I am until I feel the muscles in my shoulders unclench. One night. It’s more than I have now. Thank God we’ll be spending five of them in Montreal.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

R
EBECCA

Not for the umpteenth time, I really have to question my judgment. I’m firmly convinced I have to be a teeny bit insane to have agreed to share a room with my boyfriend with the caveat that sex is not on the table. It seems there is no end to the amount of torture I’m willing to put myself through. And mark my words, this will definitely be its own brand of sexual torture.

My problem is that I’ve always had a really hard time saying no to Scott. As my mother can attest, I’m stubborn as a mule and I have a hard time turning down a challenge. And that’s exactly how I took it when Scott presented it to me last week; as a challenge. A double dare you. Yeah, I know that sounds childish but sometimes that’s me.

I look around the chalet in a suspended state of awe as Scott, Zach and Troy cart in the luggage. So this is how the other half lives. Nice. Very nice. Vaulted, wood-beamed ceilings in the main living area and a stone fireplace. The place has the open floor concept I’ve always loved but never had. The kitchen gleams from the black-and-white-speckled countertops, which looks like granite or is a good imitation, to the gunmetal appliances. Large rugs cover hardwood floors in the living area and a knotty wood table that seats four sits in the small nook off the kitchen.

“
Man, does it ever pay to be friends with you.” Troy lets out a low whistle of appreciation. Dropping two leather duffel bags in the hall, he takes in the place.

“
Seriously, Troy?” April says, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be crass.”

“
I’m just joking so take it easy.”