Page 84 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

I would’ve responded, but I already felt the scout’s salute penetrate deeper.

I had to grab his wrist to try and stop, but Kyle was an ocean wave: relentless.

Everything blurred after that. Time. Thoughts. Logic. It all dissolved into sensation of heat, pressure, rhythm, and the overwhelming familiarity of him.

I let him, because for that moment, I didn’t want to think. I didn’t want to compare. I didn’t want to remember Victor, or the mistakes, or the lessons I was supposed to have learned.

I just wanted to feel something that made sense in my body, even if it didn’t make sense anywhere else.

And it did.

It felt good.

Too good, actually.

The kind of good that made you forget why you said no in the first place.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded in a breathy voice.

I obliged—tongue out. Because I knew what he meant during intimate moments like this.

And sure enough, his mouth formed and then spit onto my tongue.

That sent shockwaves of ecstasy throughout my body.

“You like that, babe?” he asked, still playing with me like I was a toy he’d long to own.

“Yes, daddy,” I responded.

Hygienic? Questionable.

Arousing? Hell yes.

“Wait,” he said.

For a second, I thought I did something wrong.

But then he reached over to the bedside table, sliding open the drawer.

The soft crinkle of the condom he pulled out from it filled the space between us.

He glanced back at me. “You good?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He grinned and tore the packaging open.

He put the condom on with practiced ease—and at that moment, all I thought about was how many others had tasted him between our breakup and now.

A silver of envy pricked my heart.

Then he picked up a lube from the drawer and wet his protected knob.

“You ready?” he asked.

I nodded slowly.

And then I felt it—the tip breaking enter my being.