Chapter 15

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Minji's comment brought on a fresh wave of guilt. I shouldn't have abandoned her last time.

"I'm not going to make a run for it," I said, still struggling to catch my breath. "I can't move."

She gave half a laugh as she pulled up her pants, leaving them undone, and I watched her disappear through the doorway to her bathroom. She wasn't gone long, and as the first twinge of shame began to trickle into my mind, she reemerged—

Stark, fucking, naked.

My cheeks warmed at the image, and thoughts drained from my brain. She strolled across the room, coming to the bed, and helped me to stand on my wobbly legs. I turned clumsily to face her, not sure what to expect. Was this going to be awkward? Would she look at me with judgement after what we'd done, and how we'd done it?

No. Her expression was soft and full of longing. As she kissed me, her hands smoothed over my curves, moving toward my back, almost as if searching for something. It was the zipper of my dress. She eased it down, and as the fabric began to peel from my body, her lips followed it.

My shoulders shuddered with pleasure. Minji worked deliberately to undress me, and I hadn't expected seduction after sex. It seemed unnecessary, but—oh God—it felt so incredibly necessary now. Her featherlight kisses moving over my bare body was worship.

She eased the straps of the dress down my arms, pushed it to my waist, and trailed her lips over my breasts. She didn't linger there, though. She took a knee, and her left hands worked the bunched dress over my hips, while her kisses marched over my belly. The dress fell into a fluffy pile at my ankles, pulling my underwear down with it.

On her knees in front of me, Minji worked her gaze up the length of my body, and I went from being worshipped to savored. The air around us was thick. Heavy with an invisible fog that stuck in my lungs. Her stare was intense and amazing.

I didn't move until she rose to her feet and opened her arms, inviting me to step into them. I melted against her, greedy for her touch. We'd gone from soft kisses, to spanking, to brutal fucking, and now sensual cuddling? It should have felt strange, but it didn't. The way she swung from one extreme to the other was fascinating and perfect.

I lost myself in her deep kiss, where time suspended.

Somehow, we made our way onto the bed and squirmed beneath the covers, but she stayed upright, leaning her back against the tufted headboard. She probably worried if she got too comfortable, she'd fall asleep, and I'd bolt again. I wanted to show her that wasn't going to happen, so I tucked myself under her arm, putting my cheek to her bare chest.

She shifted to grab the glass of red wine off the nightstand, took a sip, and then settled in with me, glass still in hand. Her face skewed with an expression that looked a lot like remorse.

"Your distraction worked like a charm, but we still need to talk," she said.

I plucked the glass from her, pressed it to my lips, and took a big swallow. I'd only had red wine twice before, and dear God, this was the worst of the three. I tried not to make a face as I politely handed it back. "Thanks." I struggled not to wipe the gross, buttery taste from my lips. "It's really good."

Her knowing smile said she didn't believe me. But she turned serious as she set the wine down and focused on my eyes. "Are you okay?" Confidence fled from her voice. "I didn't mean to be like that."

All the hair pulling had made a mess of my ponytail, and I tucked a loose tendril behind my ear. "I'm fine."

The quiet in the room careened toward awkwardness.

"I'm fine," I said again, trying to convince her. "I, uh, liked the way you were. You couldn't tell?"

She appeared conflicted. "No, I could, it's just that was probably too much."

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