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We’re young. We’re healthy. We’re wild.
We roll and tussle, fighting in our fever to connect. I feel him, everywhere. My hips move on their own and for the first time in so long, I want one thing and one thing only.
I want this man.
His lips on my lips, throat, breasts. We roll again, then I’m on top. He accepts and gives. I take, take, take. My head arching back.
And for one moment, I am myself again. Confident, beautiful, sexy. I am the girl who should’ve met Keith years ago, and is so grateful to have found him now. Then he moves his hips. I gasp. He moves more, and all thoughts fly away.
I grip his shoulders and feel us both explode.
—
AFTERWARD, WE BOTH SPRAWLNAKED in the middle of the bed, panting hard. I’m not sure what happened to the covers. I’m not sure I care.
I have my head on Keith’s shoulder. His arm is curled around me, his fingers idly stroking my arm. It’s so soothing I can feel my eyes drift shut. Then I force them open. Maybe I should sleep. But I’m too afraid that when I wake up, this will be gone. We’ll have the awkwardness of the morning after. Or maybe, the magic will be gone for Keith. He finally got what, for years, he wanted most.
The lone survivor of an infamous predator.
I can feel myself withdraw. Keith does, too.
“Stop,” he orders.
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“I don’t know.” He tilts my head up. “You think dark thoughts, Flora. I understand. But there’s nothing dark about my interest in you. There’s nothing dark about my feelings toward you.”
“You have feelings toward me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a serial killer?”
“I don’t think so. And given that true crime is my hobby, I think I would know.”
“You’ve always wanted to meet me.”
“True.”
“Because you’re a true-crime aficionado, and what true-crime enthusiast wouldn’t want to talk to someone like me?”
“I wanted to meet you. Then I did. And then... I want more. Which has nothing to do with your past and everything to do with who you are right now. And how you make me feel right now.”
“Can we take this right now to right now?”
“Most relationships happen that way.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” he agrees. Then a moment later. “Do you need to rest, or shower, or eat, or anything at all?”
I shake my head against his shoulder.
“Good. Because the first time, while great, was a bit on the rushed side. Now... I think we can do even better.”
