It was the anxiety that quelled her instinctive stubbornness. “No. Of course not. I mean, of course I like you.” She scowled at him. “If you want to know the truth, I’m feeling things I shouldn’t feel, so I’m trying to convince myself not to. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
His expression changed. He searched her face and must have seen something. His hazel eyes heated up in an instant. “What are you feeling?” he asked. Soft and gravelly and sensual.
“It doesn’t matter.” She had to clench her hands at her sides so as not to touch him.
“It matters to me.”
“Lust,” she burst out, shocking herself with the admission. “I’m feeling lust. Happy now?”
Before she knew what was happening, he’d backed her up against one of the walls. It was a wall they’d painted when they first started, so it was mostly dry.
But not quite.
It didn’t matter. She backed all the way against it, holding her body still in an attempt to deny the throbbing force of need that was crashing over her.
“Yes,” Jacob murmured. “I’m very happy now.”
“Don’t get too happy. I just said I was trying to fight it.”
“Why fight it?”
“Because it’s... it’s messy.”
He gave his head a little shake, the fire in his eyes only getting hotter. “It’s already messy. We’re messy. How much messier do you think it’s going to get?”
She stared at him for a long moment until the answer made itself clear to her. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He hadn’t touched her yet, and he wouldn’t until she made it clear it was allowed.
“Okay,” she said again, grabbing his face with both hands. “Then let’s get messy.”
With a sound almost like a growl, he kissed her hard, hungry, fierce. Exactly as she needed. Soon they were rocking together, and she was wrapping her arms and legs around him. She’d wanted him for so long now that she was aroused almost from the very beginning, so it didn’t take long for her body to respond to the embrace.
One of his hands dipped under the waistband of her shorts and explored until he’d discovered how ready she was for him.
“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed against her neck. “You’re so hot and wet.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Please. I need this bad.” She fumbled with the button at the top of her shorts, trying to urgently get them off.
With a little awkward maneuvering, they got enough of their clothes off, and he was about to get her into position against the wall when she gasped, “Wait!”
He froze.
“We can’t do this again without a condom.”
He let out his held breath in a gust. “Right. Of course not. Good thinking.”
“I’ve got one in my purse.” She nodded toward the purse she’d left on the bottom step of the stairs.
He walked over—a little stiffly because he was really turned on—and brought her the purse. She found the condom packet and handed it to him so he could open it and roll it on. Then they were ready for real.
He kissed her again. Then bent his knees, levered his hips, and lifted her against the wall, holding her there as he thrusted. It was tight and hard and urgent and clumsy, and she was surrounded by the smell of sex and paint.
And she couldn’t remember anything feeling better. Deeper. More real.
Jacob took her hard, grunting as his speed accelerated. The tension in her body tightened so hard she was practically sobbing when she finally came all around him.
He came right after her, gasping against her neck, his body still pressing her against the hard wall.
She clung to him desperately. He was big and strong and warm and Jacob, and she never wanted anyone else in her arms or between her legs.
When he finally let her slide back down to the floor, her knees were shaky. She had to hold on to him to keep her balance.
They panted and gazed at each other until Ria finally smiled.
Jacob’s whole body softened, and he pulled her into a soft hug. “Sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear.
She waited, but he didn’t say anything else.
When she had the strength to pull away from him, she said, “Well, as far as being friends is concerned, that was a bit of a flop.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t feel like a flop to me. Although...”
She had no idea what he was about to say.
Then he said, “We’re going to have to repaint this part of the wall.”
Eight
AFTER THEY’D REPAINTED the wall and cleaned up as much as possible, Jacob walked Ria to her car.
He was warm and sated and quiet and weirdly fluttery. Excited. Like he was on the cusp of expectation, waiting breathlessly to fall over into a chasm full of everything he’d ever wanted.
Ria was quiet too, keeping her eyes down with a reserve that was almost shy, even though she’d never been a shy person.
When they reached her driver’s side door, they both stood and looked at each other for a long moment.
“Well,” she said at last.
“Well.” Unable to resist her rosy and slightly swollen lips, he leaned down to kiss her.
He tried anyway.
She put a hand on his chest to stop him.
“What?” he asked, frowning.
“We’re supposed to be friends. And friends don’t kiss when they say goodbye.”
“Friends also don’t fuck each other up against wet paint on a wall, but we sure did that a little while ago.”
She made a sound like a snicker, her dark eyes spilling over with warmth. “That was an accident.”
“Was it?”
“Yes. So you can do something about that look in your eyes.”
“What look?” He couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“That look. You know which one. Like any moment you’re going to kiss me again.”
He leaned forward and murmured against her ear. “I look like that because that’s exactly what’s about to happen.”
She pushed him away gently with an irresistible giggle. “Jacob, seriously. We were going to try to be friends.”
“I know we were. And if that’s really what you want, then I’ll work on it. But I’m starting to suspect you want more than that. I know for damn sure that
