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"Open your eyes, Holly. " I'd no sooner obeyed when he picked up the rhythm. He released his grip on my hair and both hands moved to hold my right hip, to pull himself into me. The staccato sound of skin smacking skin filled the room among our irregular breaths.
The grunts and cries between them coming from us both.
I kept looking from him to the box and back again. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
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His arms wrapped around my waist under the water before he pulled me back when he reclined. Then they moved up, enveloping my upper body in his wet crisscrossed hug while his fingers stroked my hair. I rolled my head on his shoulder, blinking through the teardrops that lingered on my eyelashes.
My hands folded over his arms, lightly holding him while the water level rose and fell over my breasts like the tide ebbing and flowing from my uneven breathing.
"Naughty, naughty. We'll have none of that. " He removed his hand from my shirt then rested the velvet-covered box on my stomach. There were soft clicking sounds while he spun the numbers on the lock and when the latch released.
He lifted the lid and held up a set of metal handcuffs, putting the box on top of the ottoman.
It stopped a second later. When there wasn't a ding that the caller had left a voicemail, Chris laid his free arm across my chest under my breasts and rested his chin on his forearm, his dark eyes on mine. "I'd never regretted the piercings. But I suddenly began to doubt I'd find a girl who would accept me with them.
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His heart was still pounding. "Do you want to watch another movie and just relax. Snuggle?" "I would like nothing more, honey. " He squeezed my upper arm.
Jolie and I had been friends for longer than we'd been roommates. She'd been the first person I'd thought of when I knew I'd have to get someone to share an apartment. It was my name on the lease, but we had been equal tenants from the start.
Yet this past year, I'd felt like I was crashing at her and her boyfriend's place.
Aching for more despite my determination to stay pissed off. "Professor Bradley taught oceanography my freshman year," he said, shifting his weight to his knees but keeping my legs trapped.
"Her son was the leading quarterback on our all-state team. Pete 'The Plow.