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"You chose to stay here, even though you could have walked out," I reminded her. "That’s proof."
"Proof of what?”
"Proof that you want to get better," I told her. "Proof that … that you’re taking this seriously. I can see it in your eyes, you don’t want your life to end with what that asshole did to you. You’re so much more than what he told you that you were, Selina. You’ve got a whole life ahead of you to prove it."
She gazed up at me, those green eyes burning into mine. I wondered how long it had been since she had heard anyone say that to her, since she had even believed it for a second herself. I wished I could just pull her into my arms and hold her and tell her it was all going to be okay, but instead, I took a step back.
"You really believe that?" she asked, her voice tiny, and I nodded.
"I really do," I replied. "You should be proud of yourself, Selina. You’ve already come so far. And you’ve got so far to go yet, so much ahead of you to achieve."
She bit her lip, and her eyes slid for a moment down to my mouth; for a second, I could feel a warmth between us, something crackling in the air.
"Thank you," she breathed, and she reached for my hand. "That … that means so much to me, Paulo."
I stared at her, frozen to the spot, the feeling of her fingers against mine wiping all sensible thought from my mind. Right now, I couldn’t think about everything she had been through, everything that had happened. No, all I could think about was how fucking gorgeous she was, standing here in front of me. How much I wanted to kiss her.
But then, I drew myself back to reality. I couldn’t do anything with her. I couldn’t let myself get drawn in to anything with this woman, not after everything she had been through, not after everything she had endured. I would be no better than the men who had used her if I tried to make a move on her now; it just wouldn’t have been fair.
"I should get some rest," I told her, and her face fell, as though she had been expecting something else entirely.
"Right, of course," she muttered, and she leaned up against the fridge, arms wrapped around herself protectively. "I’ll … uh, I’ll catch you later."
I paused for a moment before I left. I felt like there was something else I should tell her; maybe that this, me pulling back, wasn’t because I didn’t like her, didn’t feel something here between us. No, if anything, I felt something strong, something intense, something I knew I wasn’t going to be able to ignore that easily.
But what mattered right now wasn’t some fleeting attraction I felt for her, no matter how intense it might have been. It was getting her back on her feet, back to a reality she could be happy with.
And my own desire would just have to wait.
Chapter Eight – Selina
I lay there in bed, tossing and turning, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell was going on in my head right now.
All I could think about right now was the way Paulo had looked at me, the way he had touched me down in that kitchen. When he had planted his hand on my arm, his voice strong and sincere as he told me how much worth I still had, it felt as though every nerve-ending in my body was lighting up and responding to his touch. I had no idea what it meant, but I knew one thing—I liked it.
This wasn’t the kind of restlessness that had come when I was in withdrawal. No, this was something else entirely. This was … want. The first real, true want I had felt in such a long time, and I didn’t know what to make of it. I had been so cut off from my real, genuine desire for so many years, it felt strange to have it poke its head up like this …
Especially for someone like Paulo, someone so much older than me. But I couldn’t deny it. When he looked at me, I felt something in my system beginning to warm up, beginning to soften and undo itself, as though I was uncoiling after so many years of being stuck in this same dissociation. I had forced myself to cut off contact with my body, to the point that, when I was confronted with a man I was actually attracted to, I had no idea what to do about it.
He handled me with kid gloves, and I couldn’t blame him. He must have thought there was so much damage in me, so much he couldn’t work through, so much he couldn’t handle. But still … underneath it all, he could see that I wasn’t totally lost. He believed in me, and knowing that, knowing that he really thought there was hope for me, it was the most convincing thing I’d heard in a long time.
Maybe it was just my gratitude getting mixed up with the emotions I hadn’t felt in so long, but I got the feeling there was something real to it. I had always had kind of a thing for older men, even when I had been a teenager. My friends had teased me for having crushes on my teachers when all of them had been swooning over boy band members way closer to their age.
And Paulo was pretty hot. I mean, the gray streaks in his hair, the way they matched his eyes – that strong, square jaw and his high cheekbones, he could have been a model. I could almost imagine how it would feel to have him on top of me, the weight of him as he gazed down at me …
Fuck. Before I could stop myself, my hand had snaked down between my legs, and I was touching myself, skimming my fingers over my clit as I imagined him in bed with me. His strong hands all over me, moving across my skin, touching me like he couldn’t believe I was real. In my mind, it was his hand between my thighs, caressing my pussy, so gentle and so soft …
I arched my back, pushing myself against my hand, needing more, harder. I brushed my fingers down towards my slit, tracing around the outside, feeling the wetness that had already started to form there from just being in his presence. If this was the effect he had on me before we had so much as kissed, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually be with him.
I moaned softly as I imagined him slipping between my thighs, his head between my legs, his warm breath against my pussy. It had been so long since I’d had someone go down on me, and now, I craved it more than anything. His experienced mouth on my pussy, his tongue against my clit, the feel of his warmth breath on my skin.
I was breathing hard now, already able to feel the orgasm starting to build inside of me—it was almost more than I could take, almost more than I could handle, but in a good way. Like I was waking up parts of myself that I had been completely cut off from for way too long, parts of me I had tried my very best to deny for too many years. A real, authentic desire that was all aimed at him, at this man who seemed to be able to look past everything I had been through and see me for the person I really was …
I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on the image of him between my legs, massaging my clit as I imagined him doing the same thing with his tongue. It felt so lewd, playing with myself to the thought of him like this. Did he have any idea how much I wanted him? I wished he was watching me right now, telling me how to touch myself, telling me exactly how I was meant to get off. I just needed him. Needed him so fucking badly I could hardly think straight.
I pressed my thighs together around my hand, suddenly feeling the pressure releasing as the orgasm erupted through my system. I had to keep my mouth shut, not wanting to alert anyone else in the house as to what I was doing in here, but the pleasure forced a few groans from between my lips. I was writhing against my hand, humping into my fingers like I couldn’t control myself, the pleasure almost more than I could take. I had to catch my breath when it finally retreated, my pussy still throbbing as I rested my hand on my thigh once more.
Opening my eyes, I tried to get my breath back in line as it stuttered helplessly out of my lungs. Fuck. Okay, I didn’t know exactly what had just happened, but I knew one thing for sure.
