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Being with him made me feel different. It made me imagine different futures for myself I’d never even dreamed of. A family. Warmth. Acceptance even if I didn’t end up becoming Mother 2.0.
There was something else, though. Emotionally, Travis felt like a hidden doorway that appeared out of nowhere and offered me another path entirely. I’d spent so long trudging through a featureless tunnel toward a distant, seemingly unreachable goal. Now he appeared and it all felt like it could be so easy. Too easy, even.
But physically? He woke something in me that I’d always been able to control before now. I gazed into his eyes. They were blue, deep, and full of intensity. I liked the way it felt to have them on me—to know I was the center of his attention.
All on their own, my hands lifted up to rest on his chest. I liked how hard and warm he felt, and I liked how my simple touch changed his expression so powerfully. His eyebrows twitched together, and his eyes narrowed. His lips parted.
“Why do you feel so good?” I asked.
He ran his hand through my hair and down the nape of my neck, making me feel hot all over. “It’s not me that feels good. It’s that you’re finally giving your body what it wants.”
One of my hands ran down his shirt to run across the rippling muscle of his abs. I sucked in a shuddering breath, watching my fingertips outline his shape like I was hypnotized. “It feels more like my body is about to take what it wants.”
“Do you want to let it?” he asked.
I could feel there was still an exit here. Still one blazing neon sign and a door I could rush through to escape. I could run away from it all, couldn’t I? I could leave his apartment, leave this relationship, and go back to the way things were.
But I didn’t want that anymore. At least not before I gave this a real try. It felt too good. Too intoxicating. I’d tasted bits and pieces of what this surrender would feel like, and now I was greedy for all of it.
“Be gentle with me,” I whispered.
22
TRAVIS
Usually, I saw several moves ahead. It was part of why people found it so hard to come out on top in a conversation with me. I’d already anticipated what they’d say or what they’d try to bargain for and made the necessary preparations.
When it came to Elizabeth, I had to accept that I was flying completely blind. Maybe that should’ve been terrifying, but it felt thrilling.
I’d brought her here for dinner tonight thinking she’d probably recoil after meeting my family. They clashed with everything she stood for, after all. Instead…
I dragged myself to the moment—to how I was currently stripping off the layers of Elizabeth’s clothes and about to finally lay eyes on the body I’d been fantasizing about for weeks. It was the body I imagined all the men at Glass Design had pictured in their minds at least once. Unreachable. Untouchable Elizabeth. The woman who was impervious to regular human emotion and desire.
Except that was all bullshit.
I lifted her blouse to reveal her pale, toned stomach and the black bra she wore. My eyes were glued to the way her skirt didn’t hug her skin perfectly tight. I could see the faintest hint of her black thong as I leaned over her shoulder and kissed her neck.
Mine. She was finally going to be mine, even if the moment was fleeting.
My bedroom seemed too far away. The idea of pausing long enough to cross the kitchen, walk down the hallway, and deal with a door felt as out of reach as understanding quantum mechanics. So I walked her backwards a few feet to the large sectional couch in my living room. There was a square ottoman in the middle, which I kicked into the corner with my foot to make the space larger.
I wanted to literally throw her down and tear her clothes off, but I kept replaying how vulnerable she’d looked when she asked me to be gentle.
She’s a virgin. I knew some guys were into the whole virgin thing. Conquest and claiming the unclaimed, or something like that. But I felt a heavy responsibility knowing this was her first time. It was a big deal, and I wanted it to be special for her. So many people had their first time ruined by nerves or an inattentive partner, and I refused to let that be Elizabeth’s story, even if it meant I would need to ignore some of my current urges.
I needed to take it slowly. There was no rush. She may slip away in the morning, but for tonight, she was mine.
So I kissed her neck and enjoyed the slender delicacy of her skin. I let my hands roam the small of her back and circle her narrow waist. I teased myself by leaving her bra on and not pulling down her skirt yet, even though I was already so damn hard it physically hurt. My dick was throbbing to be free—to be inside.
