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“Yeah.”
“It wasn’t there when I clipped your pants,” he says.
I can’t believe he remembers a glimpse of my hip from eight months ago; I can’t believe he even noticed it the first place.
He presses warm lips to the words and licks my hip bone, then drags his teeth lightly over it. My breath catches. There’s something about Rex’s laser focus that makes me incredibly hot. It’s like the air between us is thinner than usual and I’m more aware of him.
He runs his hand over my stomach and ribs, just stroking, then slides up and kisses my neck and my jaw. My skin feels hot and tingly everywhere he touches. When he kisses the inside of my biceps, I shudder. It’s so weird. I barely know Rex, but he may be the only person who’s ever touched me in that spot. Definitely the only person who’s ever kissed me there.
“You’re so sensitive,” Rex growls.
“No,” I say. “I mean, I never was.” But my breathing’s gone all funny and my heart is pounding. I pull Rex down and kiss him as hard as I can. He kisses me back, but when I clutch at his back and try to pull him on top of me, he eases back to those gentle touches again. He strokes along the veins on the inside of my forearm and sucks gently at the skin under my ear; he traces my ribs and places soft kisses along my collarbone.
I feel strange. Shaky and out of control. No one’s ever touched me like this. Paid this much attention. Am I supposed to reciprocate? I’ve never touched anyone the way he’s touching me, either. Never traced patterns on someone’s skin or run my fingertips over the swell of muscle and the dip of bone. Never felt where hair changed from soft to rough or skin from thin to callused.
It’s like Rex is mapping my body, each stroke of his hand and touch of his lips learning me better.
There are unfamiliar sounds clawing their way out of my throat. Vulnerable sounds. What if he gets up and leaves? What if he doesn’t? And now, I realize, in the moments it’s taken me to ponder this, Rex has stopped touching me and started staring at me.
“Do you want me to stop?” Rex asks abruptly.
I stare up at him and it’s as if I’m watching this play out like reading a scene in a book. I just keep wondering what’s going to happen next. And by the time my brain can process that I have to make something happen next, Rex has swung his legs over the side of the bed and is giving me a sweet but hesitant smile.
“No worries,” he says. “I didn’t mean to be so touchy-feely. I’m just gonna shower.”
I hear the water turn on and pull the pillow over my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? Unlike my inability to answer Rex, I can think of about a hundred answers to that question. Like, I barely know this guy, so why am I so goddamned worried about what he thinks of me? Like, I should’ve left last night after we fucked and I don’t get why I didn’t. Like, I’ve never had a real relationship, so why would I start now? Especially when I finally have a job that’s going to make it possible to pay off all my debt and not live paycheck to paycheck, checking my bank balance every time I have to buy groceries. Especially when, in order to keep that job, I need to spend all my time proving to the people who hired me that they didn’t bet on a losing horse.
And the biggest thing wrong with me: why, even now, does my whole body feel pulled toward Rex when I was just touching him a minute ago?
Before I can let myself think about it, I walk to the bathroom and knock on the door.
“Yeah,” Rex says over the shower.
I open the door slowly and there he is, the sharp lines of shoulder and leg softened by steam and glass.
“Can I?” I ask, gesturing to the shower.
“Course,” he says. “You don’t have to ask.” But of course I have to ask. You don’t just get in the shower with someone.
The water’s a little hotter than I like and I can feel my skin turning pink almost immediately. Rex puts a hand on my hip and draws me toward him. I go to kiss him, but he stops me with a hand on my palm. He pulls us tight together, his body hot and slick from the water. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and runs a hand up and down my spine, making me squirm closer to him.
“Look,” he says. “It’s been a while since I’ve done all this. I know I can be a little…. I just like touching you, but I didn’t mean to overstep. Okay?”
