“Cash,” I whispered, not sure what I was asking for.
He pulled out slowly, and I winced at the sudden emptiness. I turned around to face him, searching his expression for... something. Regret? Satisfaction? Connection?
What I saw was confusion, like he wasn’t sure how we’d ended up here either. His hand reached up, surprisingly gentle as he brushed a strand of hair from my forehead.
“I shouldn’t keep doing this to you,” he said, his voice rough but quieter now.
“Doing what?” I asked.
“Using you like this.” His eyes dropped to where his release was starting to trickle down my inner thigh. “You deserve better than being my distraction.”
I caught his wrist before he could pull away completely. “What if I want to be your distraction?”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something crack in that hard exterior. Vulnerability, maybe. Fear, definitely. But before he could answer, his phone pinged again from the couch.
The spell broke. Cash stepped back, pulling up his jeans. “I should get that,” he muttered.
As he turned away, I wondered if I’d ever get through to the man beneath all that anger and pain. And why I was so determined to try.
Chapter 15
Mike
Cash left me standing in the living room with my pants around my ankles, thoroughly fucked but also confused.
What had happened?
One minute he was inside me, the next he was checking his phone, walking to his bedroom, and shutting himself inside. I pulled up my pants, wincing at the mess and the slight ache that reminded me of what we’d just done. And he was just…gone.
I stood there feeling the cool air on my bare skin, trying to make sense of what just happened. The sound of his door shutting echoed in my head like some kind of period at the end of a sentence that didn’t make any sense.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, looking down at the evidence of our encounter still drying on the wall. I grabbed my shirt from the floor and wiped it off, feeling strangely hollow.
The sex had been incredible. It was raw, intense, and exactly what I needed. But the way he’d just walked away left me feeling used in a way I hadn’t anticipated. And I wasn’t sure I liked it this time, not when he’d clearly been so close to saying something…decent.
I tucked myself back into my pants and zipped up, trying to gather my dignity along with my scattered clothes. My bodystill hummed with the afterglow, but my mind was racing. This wasn’t just about sex anymore, and that terrified me.
“Fuck,” I whispered, running my hands through my hair.
I’d seen something in his eyes before that damn phone went off again. Something real and vulnerable that made my chest tight. I wanted to chase after it, to kick down his bedroom door and demand he finish what he was about to say.
Instead, I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water, trying to cool the fire in my veins. The cold liquid slid down my throat, but did nothing to wash away the taste of him.
I stood there, leaning against the counter, debating my next move. The pastor in me said to be patient, to give him space. The man in me, the one who’d just been bent over and fucked senseless against a wall, wanted answers. Fuckingnow.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I was walking toward his bedroom door. My knuckles rapped against the wood before I could second-guess myself.
“Cash?” I called, my voice steadier than I felt.
Silence.
“Are you okay?”
More silence, then a shuffling sound from inside.
“I’m on the phone,” he called. But it was followed by only silence. He was lying through his teeth.
I pressed my forehead against the door. “Bullshit. You were about to say something before your phone went off.”
