The Hazards of Mistletoe Read Free Page B

didn’t want to do anything that stopped him from touching me. His fingers had moved up slightly higher, and he was continuing the back and forth motion.
    “Because of what you look like. Guys are going to want to take advantage of you. You need to be smart.”
    “I can handle guys.”
    “Can you?” His hand moved up even higher, and I took in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but I liked it. The problem is I wanted more.
    “I’m very capable of taking care of myself.”
    “I know you are. I just worry about you.”
    “You already told me that.”
    “And I wish you didn’t live so far away.”
    “Didn’t you just tell me it’s better that we hardly see each other because we won’t hate each other?”
    “Yeah, that’s not true. I wouldn’t hate you if I saw you every day. We’d still be friends.” His hand brushed right underneath my bra. Why was he talking about being friends as he touched me in a very un-friend like way?
    Was he waiting for me to disagree? Was this when I was supposed to make a choice? “Do you think we always have to keep things just as friends? I mean you did hire that girl to make us kiss.” I decided to continue along with his joke.
    “I did.”
    “And you are practically feeling me up right now.” I expected him to pull his hand back, and prepared myself for the lack of contact.
    Instead his hand only stilled. “Does this bother you?”
    “No.” It didn’t. The only thing that bothered me was that he was stopping. I slipped my hand under his t-shirt.
    His hand started moving again, and he slipped his fingers underneath my bra, still just missing my breast. It was like torture.
    “You can keep moving up you know. I like the way your hand feels.”
    “Were you telling me the truth when you told me about that guy?”
    “Hmm?” I didn’t really want to talk about any other guy.
    “The one you said you slept with. We were texting at like one a.m. a few months ago.”
    “That was actually three a.m. for me.”
    “Same difference. Were you telling me the truth?”
    “Yes.” Why was he doing this? Why was he bringing up bad memories?
    “And it was really that bad? You really didn’t enjoy it?”
    “Are you trying to embarrass me?”
    “No. I’m just asking. I hate that your first experience with a guy sucked like that. A girl like you deserves better.”
    “And who’s going to give me better? You?”
    “I wish.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    He pulled his hand out from under my shirt. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
    “Why not? I’m eighteen and we’re not kids anymore. We’ve known each other for years.”
    “Because my parents could be home at any time.”
    “They won’t be back for an hour, and you have your own room. Why can’t we move there?” I wasn’t sure why I was pushing for it so hard, but once the possibility entered my mind, I wanted it.
    His jovial flirtatious side disappeared and was replaced by a seriousness that was at odds with his usual personality. “See this is why you’re going to get yourself hurt next year.”
    “I’m not going to get hurt.” I didn’t think, I just acted. I pressed my lips against his as I climbed onto his lap, straddling him while he still reclined on the couch. He didn’t respond at first, but then moments later he was pushing for access to my mouth. I gladly gave it. He hand moved under my sweater again, but this time he pushed it right under my bra, cupping my breast in the same motion. He squeezed my breast as his tongue continued to move with mine.
    I struggled with his belt, wanting to feel him in my hand. Wanting to know if he wanted me the same way I wanted him. He helped me, easing his zipper down, and adjusting himself before letting me take him in my hand. He groaned, squeezing my breast harder as I stroked him. He broke the kiss. “Not out here.”
    I moved off his lap, releasing him so I could walk toward the room I knew was his. He caught up with me,