Miles seems comfortable with the silence, checking his pockets for whatever he needs—probably his room key and phone. He stops by my side of the bed, placing a hand on my shoulder and a kiss on my forehead.
“Sleep well,” he says. “I’ll see you around.”
And then he smiles at me in a way that makes me want to dissolve into the mattress and lets himself out.
I lock the door behind him and crawl back into bed in just my robe, turning off my light to lie in the darkness and figure out how the hell I’m going to avoid another night like this. Even though I’m not 100% convinced I want to.
11
MILES
I can’t get out of Abby’s room fast enough. Not because I want to leave her, but because I have never been so turned on in my goddamn life and my dick is aching so bad I’m in pain.
The shower takes no time at all to heat up, and I step in, letting the hot water blast my back as I take my cock in my hand with a firm grip, groaning at the first slow pump down the shaft.
I knew I was a goner when she walked up to the hot tub tonight. It would have been nothing short of a miracle for us to leave the jacuzzi without something passing between us. Abby has always had the kind of body that I find attractive, mostly because it’s hers. Time hasn’t changed that fact one bit. The curve of her hips, thighs I could sink my teeth into, her perfect breasts and those perfect nipples…
“Fuck,” I groan and stroke myself, hoping to ease the craving my body has for hers.
I lean my head back, the water soaking my hair and splashing onto my face. I’m cooked if I think I can go another six days without doing that again. The noises she made, the way she unraveled at my touch. My god, what I wouldn’t give to march back over to her room and beg her to let me do it again.
I slow my movements, pumping my hand over the full length of my cock, all the way to the tip, where I squeeze the head and let out a groan, turning to face the stream of water before I stroke my hand back down to the base. I lean a hand against the back of the shower wall, letting the water pelt me, the bathroom steaming up as I think about repeating the last half-hour. Putting my mouth all over her gorgeous body, the sound of my name on her lips in ecstasy. I move my hand faster, working myself to the end. It won’t take much. I can still feel the way she tightened around my fingers, dug her nails into my shoulder as she came. And as I’m thinking about her climax, my own happens—an animalistic grunt paired with an intense, blinding release that leaves me shaking, my chest heaving. I lean my forehead against the wall of the shower, the stream of water still pelting my back, and try to cool down for a second.
I haven’t finished that fast or hard in a long time.
This is what Abby does to me, though. It was always like this with her in college, whether we were together or I was flying solo—the intensity of my physical relationship with her is woven in with my feelings for her, which may not be as strong as they used to be, but I can’t deny my regenerating interest in her.
Abby isn’t just sexy and fun; she’s patient and more forgiving than I deserve. That she gave me the time of day at all to apologize to her, much less accepted my apology and has since hung out with meby choicetwice, says way more about her capacity for forgiveness and letting go than it does about how interesting or charming I am.
She’s all the things she was over a decade ago when we dated, and I know there’s so much I missed. I want to know her again, find out all the things I missed and learn who she is now.
Last night, I believed there was no way she would even want to spend time with me—not as friends and definitely not as anything else—but tonight I’m rethinking all of that.
It’s all I think about as I towel off, don my boxer-briefs, and climb into bed. My mind spins with the possibilities.
Is she interested in me?
Or was she just horny?
Was it just a one-time thing?
I can’t be at the same resort as her for the next five days and not touch her again. I think it would kill me. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin already. I drum my fingers against my chest, needing to move some of this energy out of my body.
What if she seeks me out tomorrow to tell me it was mistake and that she regrets it?
Abby knows how strongly I feel about consent, and she had multiple opportunities to say no to me. She has said no to me in the past, when she wasn’t feeling well. She knows it’s safe to say no.
And she didn’t.
But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t regret it after the fact.
Butshekissed me. Twice. In the hot tub, it was Abby who leaned into me for the kiss, and when I stood at her door baring my soul, it was Abby who came to me.
She wanted this. Even just one time, she wanted me.
And it shouldn’t, but it gives me the kind of hope that would motivate me to go to war.
What if she wants to spend more time with me?
