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And that innocent little thought started the spiral.
I was coming down from my orgasm as Dean moved up over me and slid a condom on himself. I tried all the mental tricks I knew to shut down my anxiety brain, but none of it was working. The paranoid, worried thoughts seemed to echo in a kind of feedback loop until I could barely pick them out from each other. All that was left was a cacophony of noise and a tightness in my chest that made it hard to breathe.
Dean had been about to slide into me when he lifted his eyes to mine. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. It’s okay. Go ahead.” I’m just thinking how we’ll never be together and I’ll never find a guy like you. How I’ll never be happy and my future is going to be full of dusty houses, the meows of cats, and probably hair curlers and ugly slippers.
He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed as he rolled to his side. His hand was on my belly and the other was propping his head up above the ear. “Talk to me, Pearl. What’s wrong?”
I laughed a little at myself and put the backs of my hands over my eyes. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know what it is. I just had this thought and it spiraled and now I’m sort of freaking out on the inside.”
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You know that, right? It can be done. Right now. I’ll just go off to the bathroom and take care of this thing myself. No hard feelings.” He was smiling in that boyish way he did sometimes.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It looks like it’s going to need professional help.” My eyes were on the shape of his manhood, which seemed like if it got any more erect it might explode.
Dean laughed. “I’m serious, Pearl.”
I let out a breath. “I want to. I want this, I mean. But I can’t help remembering the last time. I told myself I would never do that again. It just made it too hard to keep acting like this was all pretend.”
“Because it felt real when we slept together?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. Saying as much to Dean made my whole body want to blush.
“I felt it, too.”
My heart started pounding in a way that had nothing to do with my anxiety. Was he admitting he wanted to give making this real a try? Because I was pretty sure if he said as much, I’d jump all over the offer at this point.
“But, we’re adults,” he said, erasing my hope like a strong breeze carrying away a puff of smoke. His tone was easy and reassuring, almost as if he thought he was telling me what he thought I wanted to hear. For once in Dean Slater’s life, he hadn’t read the situation right.
Still, I smiled and nodded my head. “Yeah, we are,” I agreed.
“And adults can have a little fun without getting carried away, right?”
“Right.”
“Here,” he said. He lifted my hand to his bare chest, placing it in the center of his ribcage. “Breathe with me. We can calm down together, and then you can decide. Close your eyes,” he added when I stared up at him.
I did as he ordered, focusing on the feeling of my hand on his chest and his on mine. Once I felt the slow, steady pace of his breathing, I realized how fast mine was. With effort, I shifted my attention to my chest and made it move more slowly than it wanted. I took the breaths in, holding them until I felt Dean release his.
After only a minute or two, I felt calmer. Without the rapid breathing, the tightness in my chest was gone. With the careful patience of Dean, I felt calmer again.
I opened my eyes, meeting his and nodding. “That’s better. Thank you.”
“Any time. Do you want me to give you some space?”
I considered his question. I knew he wanted this to just be sex. In his head, it was only two bodies getting satisfaction. I should’ve told him “no” because I knew it would be more than that for me, but I couldn’t.
I took his shoulder and pulled him closer to me. “Space?” I said. “Right now, that’s the last thing I want. I want you closer. I want all of you.”
The fiery look in Dean’s eyes made me wonder if he knew how I really meant those words, or if he was just thinking about the sex. I wasn’t sure, and I decided I could worry about the consequences later.
I let him climb back over me and gently urge my legs apart with the weight of his hips. He stared down at me, hair dangling down in messy locks as he held my gaze. “You’re sure?” he asked.
