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“Sure.” We exchanged tight nods and he closed the door. I let my head fall back on the headrest and took a long series of deep breaths, trying to expel the anxiety from my body.

When I finally found some equilibrium and opened my eyes, five minutes had passed. And when I looked up at my rearview mirror, I saw Niall’s car, waiting to make sure I got off okay.

Yeah, he was working real hard on not being lovable.

The No-Touching Rule

Niall

When I got home after the appointment, I sat on my couch, in the dark, and completely zoned out.

That almost never happened. My brain was always train after train of thoughts. What needed to be done or taken care of, who I should check in with, how I could prep for an interview. On and on my brain went.

Except now, when I had so many thoughts about Leah that everything just shut down.

It wasn’t just a relationship she was afraid of, it was love in all its forms. She couldn’t be cared for without it sending her into a panic.

And through her whole speech, I could see the hurt and embarrassment. She hated admitting all that to an essential stranger. It was horrible, all that weight she carried, that she couldn’t share, couldn’t trust anyone to help with.

And fuck did I want to help her. None of what I’d done at the appointment seemed special, the questions, the health records, all of it. Those were bare minimum things. And if that hit her max of being cared for, I … I wanted her to feel really cared for. I wanted her to have the support that made her safe and comfortable and was never scared it’d disappear. She deserved that, everyone did.

I ignored the way yellow flashed in the back of my mind, the little voice that reminded me that a relationship was untenable for both of us, and thought about little ways to care for her. What was the smallest thing I could do? And how could I work my way up from that?

Waiting for her to drive out of the parking lot didn’t seem to bother her. Or at least she hadn’t sent me a text telling me off. Though she also didn’t text me when she got home like I asked, so maybe that was my answer.

I leaned back against the couch, let my head fall, and groaned.

The placement, the noise, reminded me of how easy she let me treat her the first time we met. How she smiled and giggled, how my cock felt in her mouth and how her come tasted on my lips. I’d never considered myself particularly competent at sex, but based on the number of smiles I got, I made her much happier then than I did now.

And maybe it was a selfish thought, but I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the only way I could help her and if she’d let me do it again. There were studies about how an orgasm was good for stress release and …

Fuck it. I shoved my shorts and boxers down and started stroking myself. My head fell back and I pictured Leah back in my bed, completely naked, red hair loose over her shoulders, her tan faded from being inside more often as school started. Her hand was on her neck, slowly trailing down, over her collarbone, down her bare chest, twisting over a nipple. Then she went further down to her center and spread her legs.

“Remember.” She clicked her tongue. “No touching.”

“Leah,” I groaned as the woman in my head let the tips of her fingers graze over her clit. “Let me help you, please.”

“I can do it myself.” And as if to prove her point, she slid two fingers into her cunt and moaned as she started to stroke herself. My cock ached in my hands, heat pulsing at the thought of not touching her. I should be ashamed that her setting a boundary lit a fire in me. And I would have been, except I saw a flash of desire in her eyes too. It might’ve not been what she meant in the moment, but this kind of no-touching game had crossed her mind.

“Please, Leah. I could make you feel so much better. Don’t you remember?” I let my pace quicken, tightening my grip and grazing my thumb over my head.

“True. But you’re my good boy, aren’t you? And you won’t do anything until I tell you.”

I whimpered. It was true, relinquishing control felt so damn good. And I wanted her to have that power over me, I wanted her to say what she wanted and for me to give her exactly that.

But even imaginary Leah wouldn’t ask to be cared for. And I don’t think any amount of begging would change her mind.

At least for now.

“You don’t have to torture us both,” I groaned, sharp heat twisting my insides as my orgasm approached. “Use me. Use me as much as you want, for whatever you want. Please.”

The imaginary Leah pulled her fingers out of her cunt, her wetness coating them, making my mouth water. She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around my cock, spreading her arousal over me. The sensation, even just imagining it, made me shiver.

And when I imagined her bringing those fingers up to my mouth and saying one word, “Suck,” I was pushed over the edge, coming all over my hand and shorts, burning and shaking and out of breath.

It should be embarrassing how quickly the image of Leah and the memory of her taste made me come undone, but it wasn’t. She was incredible in so many ways, but her directness specifically captured me, aroused me. And—

Fuck, what the hell was I doing? Why am I sitting with my cock out, hand covered in come, thinking about a woman who would rather never talk to me again? Why did I even let myself think of her like that?