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This is exactly what I want.
My fingers brush the edge of the towel wrapped around his hips. "You think that little of yourself?"
His eyelids flutter closed.
A groan falls off his lips.
He wants this too.
His fingers wrap around my wrist. "Let's say you tear this towel off, drop to your knees, and suck me off."
My sex clenches. Let's not say anything. Let's do that. Let's do everything.
"What happens tomorrow?"
The awful test happens tomorrow. "The sun rises."
His brow furrows. "You think you can fuck me and everything can stay the same?"
"You managed okay."
"I didn't. And if you don't believe that, then you should go right now."
I bite my lip.
"I'm sorry I hurt you. I am. But that was seven years ago. I was a stupid kid. I know better now. I know there's no way I can fuck you and leave again."
"I don't want you to leave."
"This will change everything."
"So?" I push off the door. Move closer. Everything changes tomorrow whether I fuck him or not. He doesn't get it, but then, how could he? He doesn't know. "What if everything is supposed to change?"
He releases my wrist. "What if it's not?" His foot sinks into the carpet as he takes a step backward. "I wasn't the kind of guy you needed seven years ago. And I'm not now."
"You don't know what I need."
"Then tell me."
"I did." I stare up at him. "I need you to fuck me."
He moves into the main room. "I'm gonna get dressed."
"Don't."
"The towel isn't gonna help your case," he says.
"What will? What do you want to hear, Dean? That I like you. That I can't stop thinking about you. That you were the best I ever had. I do. You were. That's why I'm here."
"Which part of it?"
"All of it." I take two steps toward him. I'm begging him to fuck me. It's pathetic. But I don't care. I need to think about something else. I need to turn off my brain. To take this last chance to seize the fucking day. Night. Whatever.
His brow furrows. "You felt like this yesterday?"
"Yeah."
"But it took God knows how much vodka to get you here, telling me, today."
