Page 110 of Bitter’s Sweet

“That ain’t what I said.”

“I’m not scared.”

His eyes lift. “I know.”

Two words. No argument. No making me prove it.

Then his thumb runs over the wet fabric between my legs.

My hips jerk. “Fuck.”

Bitter’s mouth curves.

“Don’t you dare.”

He does it again, slowly.

“You soaked these.”

“You are enjoying this way too much.”

“I ain’t even started enjoying myself.”

His thumb presses harder, and I gasp. Bitter watches my face while he rubs me through the cotton, finding exactly the spot that makes my thighs tense.

“You know what I thought about last night?”

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“You.”

“Obviously.”

“Smartass.” He hooks one finger beneath the waistband but doesn’t pull. “Thought about getting these off you. Thought about spreading your legs. Thought about whether your pussy tastes as sweet as that mouth.”

My breath comes out broken. “Bitter.”

“Thought about eating you until you forgot why you told me no.”

“That sounds suspiciously like trying to change my mind.”

His face changes immediately.

“No.”

The seriousness cuts through the heat. He releases the waistband.

“I ain’t ever fucking you into changing an answer.”

My heart squeezes.

I reach down, take his hand, and put it back. “That isn’t my answer tonight.”

His eyes lock on mine. “No?”

“No.” I lift my hips. “Tonight I want you to take them off.”

The darkness returns to his face, hotter now because I know what sits underneath it.