Page 14 of Memories of You

He had to laugh. “I have a clue, believe me. Oh, shit—” Heswallowed hard as her hand closed over his cock. “Abby…”

He saw a flash of either hurt or frustration as she startedto pull away. He acted without thinking, closing his hand over hers, keepingher hand on his cock as he met her eyes. “What happened to you don’t do casualsex?”

“I—Don’t you want to know what we missed out on? Aren’t youcurious?”

Hell yes he was.

“I’m not—Abby, I’m so glad we found each other again, andbelieve me, I am not saying no.”

Her mouth quirked, and she cupped her hand more firmlyaround him. “No, you’re definitely not.”

“I’m not looking for a relationship. And you don’t do casualsex. So what exactly are you looking for here?”

“Just tonight,” she said. “Because I missed you, and I trustyou.”

Trust. What woman he’d ever been with had used thatas a come-on? But damned if those simple words hadn’t pushed him over the edge.

She was right—they both deserved this. To know what theymight have had if he’d stayed. If he hadn’t acted like an ass and dated everyother girl except the one who’d stolen his heart back when he was in diapers.

“All right,” he said, pushing her hand off his cock. “Butwe’re going to take this slow.”

Chapter Six

“Slow,” I repeat. “Yeah, I think I like that.”

“And we do this my way.” His hand closes over mine, and hemoves me gently but firmly off his cock.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I say.

“I like being in charge,” he says, easing me back until I’monce again leaning against the arm of the sofa. My feet are tucked under me,and he tells me to straighten them. “On my legs again,” he says. “Just as wewere.”

“What—”

“Abby. Just do it.”

I swallow a protest, mostly because I’m curious, and slip mybare feet back onto his thighs.

“Do you want to know what I was thinking earlier? My fantasyof how the evening could go? What I wanted to do, but didn’t have the fuckingballs? Not like you did, starting this whole thing up. Is that what you want,Abby? Do you want to know what I was thinking earlier? Is that really where youwant me to take you?”

There’s heat and harshness in his voice, and I nod. Rightthen, I want nothing more than to see into his fantasies. To know if his wereas wild and wicked as mine have been. How he wanted me. What he would do to me.Because every kiss or stroke or touch just goes that much further to validate theintense passion building inside me, not to mention my own boldness.

“Yes,” I say. “But you have to remember something when youdo.”

He turns to meet my eyes.

“Just remember that I’m the one who had the balls to startthis.”

His mouth twitches. “And for that, I think we’re both very,very grateful.”

His hand strokes my foot as he speaks. “We were talking likethis earlier,” he says softly. “And it wasn’t even that long ago, but I have tostruggle to remember what we were saying. Because that wasn’t the onlyconversation in my head. There was another one. My voice telling me to let go.To touch you the way I wanted to.”

“How did you want to?” My words are a whisper, and my wholebody tingles.

“Gently,” he says, running his fingertip along the side ofmy foot. “An exploration,” he continues, slowly stroking my ankle, then mycalf, then cupping me behind my knee. “A game to see when you would tell me tostop.”

“I wouldn’t have,” I say, then draw in air as he shifts onthe couch, too, coming closer to me and forcing me to bend one knee up so thatthe ball of my foot is pressed against his cock, hard beneath my sole. He bendsat the waist, one hand on that foot increasing the pressure as he meets myeyes, and the other hand stroking north on my other leg.

He’s reached the hem, and his fingertip slips under theloose cotton of the maxi dress, brushing my thigh just above my knee.