19. Hayden

CHAPTER 19

HAYDEN

Darcy's eyes widen, pupils flaring past every shade of green in her irises, and my blood drums in my ears.

Why did I say that?

Because I want her. I want her so fucking badly. Being so close to her is agony, inhaling her scent and feeling the warmth of her skin, watching her pretty, plump lips curve into a pleased smile in response to the present I picked out for her.

At dinner, she claimed buying gifts was one downside of being in a relationship, but shopping for her Valentine's Day gifts was the highlight of my week. Spending money on her gave me an expanding sense of masculine pride. Buying her things could become an addiction if I let it.

And now I'm proposing we cuddle? What the hell am I doing?

My arm is still around her shoulder, and I can't bring myself to move it. She's so warm. Her hair smells so good. My control is shredded.

I'm her wingman, and she isn't interested in anything serious, but I want her too much to think clearly.

"Cuddle." My voice sounds hoarse, so I clear my throat. Jesus. I'm acting like a teenage boy on prom night. "We should cuddle, since you miss it."

Self-loathing drips into my blood. I'm the fucking worst. Kit thinks I'm looking after her, and instead, I'm finding ways to touch her.

He manipulated her by proposing in front of everyone when he knew she wanted to break up, though, so fuck that guy.

Warning bells ring at the edge of my conscience, but I ignore them. Christ, I want to kiss her. If I were smart, I'd head straight to my room—alone—and release all this pent-up sexual frustration in the shower with my forehead against the tiles, muffling my groan.

I'm not smart, though. Not where Darcy's concerned.

"As friends," I add, my heart pounding. She can see right fucking through me, I'm sure, but I'm flying down a hill with no brakes. "I'm sure there's some science about how it's good for people."

"Oxytocin." She wets her lips. "It's released when people touch. They encourage parents to do it with newborns."

Tension hangs in the air.

"I'll do it." I swallow. "But only if I can be the baby."

She bursts out laughing, and even though my pulse drums in my ears, I grin. A few knots in my chest ease, and I lower down on the sofa, holding my arms open. Like it's the hundredth time we've done this, she tucks herself against me, her back to my front, and just like that, we're cuddling.

It's the best thing I've ever experienced.

Instinct grips me by the throat as I fold myself around her, pulling her closer to me. She's so soft, so warm, such a perfect fit against me. We're lined up against each other, and I wonder if she can feel my heart racing.

What am I doing? Do I care ?

"This okay?" I murmur.

"Mhm." She turns, glancing over her shoulder. "Can you breathe like that? My hair is probably suffocating you."

"I'm good." I could die like this. She smells like heaven. It's taking every shred of my control not to press my nose to the back of her neck. Instead, I rest my chin on the top of her head.

Is this what having a girlfriend is like? Is this what I've been missing out on for years?

It would never be like this with anyone else, though. It's not the act of cuddling with a woman, it's cuddling with Darcy that's sending my body and mind into overdrive.

You know what? Fuck it.

Driven by my dumb caveman brain, I press my nose to the back of her neck and inhale deep.

All the blood in my body rushes to my dick, and in three seconds, I'm hard as steel. My lips part at the intense urge to thrust against her.

Holy fuck .

I read an article once where a porn star said when he's having performance issues on set, he smells the back of his female costar's neck. Something about pheromones. I told everyone this at the bar, and Miller tried it with Hazel. He said it didn't work.

Well, it's fucking working now.

My balls ache with arousal and my cock strains against my pants. If Darcy moves even an inch, she's going to feel it.

Panic threads through me, cutting through my blinding lust. I need a cold shower. I need to jerk off. Fuck. No. I just need to get out of here.

Darcy lets out a content sigh and shifts, and my mind goes blank as her ass presses back into me.

She tenses.

I tense .

Neither of us is breathing.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I almost fly off the sofa, hurrying to my feet and turning away. I saw her reaction to the ring tonight; I can't be doing this. This isn't what she wants.

I'm going to ruin everything.

"I need to go to bed." I'm halfway out of the room. "Thanks for, uh. Yeah. Good night."

Moments later, I'm in the shower, water running down my body. I'm so hard it hurts, and I'm already close to coming. One hand props against the tiles, and the other grips my erection, sliding up and down the length as my mind races with images of Darcy.

Her on her knees at my feet, pretty plush lips wrapped around the width of me, taking me all the way to the back of her mouth while her gaze rises to mine.

Me on my knees in front of her, an arm around her hips to hold her steady, her leg over my shoulder, my tongue deep inside her, feeling her writhe and convulse on me. My face soaked with her arousal. Listening to every gasp and moan.

Pleasure coils around the base of my spine, my balls tighten, and my release hits me with sharp ecstasy. I clench my eyes closed as I come, breathing hard, muffling my groan.

Like always, I hope this release gets rid of the lingering desire for her. The pull toward her, the intense attraction that seems to grow every day.

It's not enough, though. It never is.