Page 74 of One More Chapter

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Page 74 of One More Chapter

Will it ruin him too?

“So. Uh…”

Ant, shirtless with mussed hair, extends both arms to clap his hands, smooshes his palms together, and glances awkwardly around the dining room. We’re equidistant from both bedrooms, standing in limbo. His somber eyes find mine.

“What do you want to happen here, boss? You’re calling the shots.”

Is this his way out? If I say I don’t want to, it’s on me, and not him. My brain starts to pretzel into all of the ways that he could be manipulating me again, until I flick my gaze up to his.

Whatever words he spoke could never match the desperation on his face. On his body. He isrestraininghimself, so much so that the veins in his forearms are visible. I want to trace them to make sure this is real.

I want this. Regardless of if it’s right or if it’s wrong or if we’re going to crash and burn again, my body calls out to his like we’re magnetically charged. In the end, I can’t resist.

“I want this,” I nod, unmoving. “What about you?”

He takes a step forward, then another, before hurriedly closing the gap between us to grasp my head in both hands. His voice drops to that molasses severity that I can taste.

“I wantthis. I wantyou.”

Shakily, I nod.

He kisses me, and it’s like the constellations I compared him to once upon a midnight sky have all been replaced withhim. He kisses me like he’s trying to erase all of the ways we did this wrong, and prove to me that he can replace them.

He kisses me like he has something to prove.

And I’m not sure if I can handle that.

But the way he kisses me makes my brain begin to melt, makes my neurons fire on one cylinder set toAnthony, and I have no choice but to let them lead.

Our hands start to bolden, his tightening into my hair while mine land on his hips, squeezing the material of his waistband.

“Fuck.” He kisses me. “Fuck,” he kisses me again, then, “Hold on, baby, I don’t…”

Thatbabyfreezes my veins and reignites them with a line of fire. It’s the second time he’s called me that tonight. I’m usually against all of his silly little nicknames, but this one makes me feel like I might be his. He peppers one more bruising kiss to my lips before pulling away.

“We have to slow down. I don’t have any condoms.” He shakes his head, the coarseness of his headband brushing my forehead as he curves his thumbs gently against my ears. “I didn’t uh… Didn’t exactly expect this would happen.”

“You didn’t think you’d have anyone over while we lived together?” My subconscious asks more than me, because in theback of my mind, I’m still questioning if he wantssexorme.But the moment his eyes harden, the second his grip turns bruising and he slides his foot between my spread ones and closes the fraction of space between us to none, I have my answer.

“No. It’s you or nothing, Penelope.”

I whimper, then pull away, walking toward my bedroom.

“I may have some in my room. Are you coming?”

When I glance over my shoulder, he looks both relieved and stunned. I have to pretend that the collapse in his chest, the way he deflates in relief like a popped balloon before following me urgently, isn’t as desperate as it seems.

But the way he grabs my hand to pull me to him, the way that Anthony Ellis threads his fingers through the hair at my nape, pulls tight, and stares so deeply into my eyes I can see all the way down to the soul he bared to me that night on the beach, makes me think again.

He kisses me slowly, tentatively, soft pecks as if he’s testing my boundaries to see if I’ll reconsider. The most striking is that his eyes stay open. His lashes flutter softly against mine with each brush of our lips, making this moment somehow more intimate. On the third exploring kiss, I move to fist his shirt, and remember that he isn’t wearing one only when I meet his bare skin. Still, I let my fingers spread wide, running over the defined dips and deep valleys that he’s been working on during those long gym mornings. Little fires burn in my wake, and then, he’s had enough.

“Fuck, P,” Ant gasps, roping one arm around my body. He lofts me against him, adjusting the grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side as his tongue slips past my lips. I gasp, then moan against the glide.

It’s like that one moment catapults the intensity. We both become frantic. I reach for the waistband of his gym shorts at the same moment that Anthony’s hand sneaks up the back of myshirt, groaning when he realizes I’m not wearing a bra, before he lifts the shirt up over my head. His lips and tongue begin to map my neck, and my hands explore the expanse of skin I’ve only ever laid eyes on. When he sucks lightly against the base of my throat, I cry out, and slide my hand around his shaft. There’s a wet spot through the cotton, and I start to drop to my knees right there.

“Uh uh,” he pants, tugging me up beneath my arms. He kisses me, like he can’t possibly speak more words without tasting my lips first.

“YousaidI could?—”




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