We Shouldn't and Yet... by Stephanie Witter Read Free Book Online

distant thing, just out of reach but still there nonetheless beyond the alcohol fog. Now, if only my cock would take the hint and actually back the fuck down.
    I take another sip and my eyes land on Aideen’s closed door. I can’t hear a thing coming from her room, but I’m picturing her on her bed. Her hair all over her pillow, her eyes bright and drawing me in even more, her body naked under the sheets…
    Without meaning to, I take a step toward the door, and another. And one last one to finally knock loudly on the thin wooden-panel. At this point, I’m not thinking beyond what’s going on in my pants and my drive is the horrified look Aideen gave me just before she fled.
    “Open the fucking door, Aideen.’’ I knock again, louder this time.
    “Just go away.’’ Her tiny voice tugs at my balls. “Please.’’
    I put my forehead on the door, the tequila still in my hand hanging down against my my thigh. It’s a wonder nothing’s spilled over yet. “I didn’t want to scare you.’’
    From her side there’s a soft bump like she puts her head against the door too. “You didn’t.’’
    I pull away, just far enough to bring the bottle to my lips and drink some more. Now, I don’t even feel the burn of the liquor. I’m already hot all over. “The fuck you didn’t. I saw your face, Aideen. I’m a grown man, I can take it.’’ I sigh and recap the bottle. “But I don’t want you to be afraid ‘round here.’’
    “I’m not afraid. Stop it.’’
    “Stop what? Worrying because I’m losing my fucking mind around you? Blow a gasket because you actually ran away without giving me a chance to explain?’’
    She yanks the door open and my heart misses a beat when I see the look on her face. It’s not fear, not anger. It’s confusion. I straighten up and ignore how ill-balanced I am with the alcohol in my blood wreaking havoc on my tight leashed control.
    She pushes away some flyaway strands of her pretty hair and briefly glances at the bottle still in my hand. The distaste doesn’t sit well with me, but I don’t comment. As long as she doesn’t either, I’m good.
    “Can’t you get a hint? I don’t want to talk about this!’’ She’s breathing hard and fast. Her chest rises and falls, her breasts stretching the light fabric of her top, catching my attention and that’s when I see her nipples pushing through her bra.
    I wet my lips when my dick gets harder still. “Yeah? Too bad, because I want to.’’ I run a hand on my unshaved cheek and then tug on the neck of my shirt, trying to find some air, something to quench the fire burning me up.
    I take a step toward her, crowding her. I don’t know if it’s my fogged up mind or my dick doing the thinking, but I’d swear she stopped breathing for a second. I breathe in her sweet perfume, something feminine and fresh, just like her. I let my eyes caress her face, stopping longer on her soft full lips before I finally try to push back the walls in her eyes.
    “There’s nothing to talk about. You’re drunk and I’m not.’’
    “Then, why are you running in the other direction if there’s nothing to talk about?’’ My voice gets lower, raspier as everything inside me is coiling up, ready to strike if I glimpse an opening. Because I know we shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, yet she’s there, gorgeous, hot and I’m craving a taste of her. Nothing else counts. It should, but I’m a fuck up and fuck ups don’t care about anything other than their base needs. I’ve never had to care about anything else before but to satisfy my damn needs.
    I get closer to her and she’s still not stepping back. She’s standing toe to toe with me. She tilts her head upward to look me in the eye.
    “Talking about this, you, is going to get embarrassing for the both of us. You’ll thank me once you’re sober. Believe me.’’
    “Right this second, Aideen, I’m very much cursing you.’’
    Gingerly, she takes the bottle from my limp fingers and