Page 55 of Ice Cold Chemistry
She’s quiet for a beat. Then, “Right.”
She nods slowly, and something in her posture changes. She stops holding herself so carefully. Stops maintaining that millimeter of distance she’d been preserving. Instead, she melts into me.
Her back presses fully against my chest. Her hand slides over mine on her thigh, fingers intertwining. She tips her head back, resting it against my shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck.
I could kiss her there. The thought surfaces unbidden, and once it’s there, I can’t get rid of it. I could press my lips to that soft skin, feel her pulse flutter under my mouth—
“You two are disgusting,” Logan announces cheerfully. “In the best way. Seriously, Banks, Ididn’t know you had it in you.”
“Had what in me?”
“Affection. Human emotion. The ability to touch another person without looking like you’re in pain.”
I should have a comeback for that. I don’t. My brain has been reduced to static and sensation.
Winnie’s thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. Slow. Idle. Like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die in this booth with a beautiful woman on my lap, surrounded by my teammates, and the coroner’s report will say “death by sexual frustration.”
Archer raises his beer. “To Banks. Finally joining the land of the living.”
“Hear, hear,” someone echoes.
“‘Bout time you were happy, man,” Zayden adds, and there’s something genuine in his voice. Something that cuts through the teasing. “You deserve it.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I’m not happy. I’m confused. And aroused. And completely out of my depth. But sitting here with Winnie warm and solid against me, her fingers laced with mine, her laughter ringing in my ears…
I could be happy. Maybe.
If this were real.
The thought is like a splash of cold water. I push it away, bury it deep, focus on the physical instead. The pounding of my heart, the ache pressing against my zipper, the primal, visceral want that’s been building since she sat down.
Winnie turns her head again, her lips close to my ear this time. “Is this okay?”
“What?”
“This.” She squeezes my hand. “Me. On you. I know it’s a lot.”
It’s not enough. That’s the problem. I want more. I want to pull her closer, tighter, feel every inch of her body pressed against mine. I want to bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. I want—
“It’s fine,” I manage.
“You sure? Because I can move—”
“I said it’s fine.”
My voice comes out rougher than intended. She goes quiet.
Shit.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I just—it’s been a while. Since anyone…”
I trail off. Since anyone what? Since anyone touched me like this? Since anyone made me feel like my skin was too tight and my blood was too hot and my whole body was screaming for something I can’t have?
“I get it,” she says softly. “We don’t have to—I can move—”
“No.” The word is out before I can stop it. “Stay.”
