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What I’ve done with Slick complicates everything, and of course I’m an asshole even in my own head because I see her as the one who will have a problem stopping, despite me fighting the urge to go to her room right now.
I’m pissed at her for telling Kincaid the truth even though she had no other recourse. It doesn’t make sense, but I’ve found since my accident that a lot of shit doesn’t make sense. I wasn’t injured in a crowded place but the thought of walking into a room full of people I don’t know literally makes my skin crawl. I’ve always been suspicious and extra cautious in public settings, but now it’s ten times worse.
I wanted to argue with Kincaid about not having PTSD, but all the facts are pointing me in that direction.
I also can’t get over the idea that walking away from Slick is going to end up harming me in some way. I shake that thought clear of my head, already having decided that my longing for her is purely sexual, and I’m only upset that the sex is over because I didn’t know it was going to be our last time.
Knowing I’ll never be able to let it go, I climb out of bed and make my way to her room.
There’s a real chance she’s going to tell me to go to hell after locking myself in my room all day, but not taking the chance to have her one last time doesn’t sit right with me.
My stealth level is basically at a zero, so there’s no way I can sneak up on the woman. She shifts in the bed the second I close us into the room. She’s sitting up by the time I make it to her side of the bed, rubbing her eyes and looking up at me with pure confusion.
“You sleep with a night light?” I stupidly ask as I look down at her.
“We all have our demons,” she mutters. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Instead of asking permission, I sit on the edge of the bed, my cock already prepared for what I hope will happen here tonight.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
I want to laugh. I’d never admit it if I did. There’s no way to see Slick as the doctor she is after the things we’ve done together.
“I want you,” I say, hoping she doesn’t question the true meaning behind my confession.
She doesn’t hesitate when I lean down and kiss her. She accepts all of the weight I press against her, her hands roaming over my back, her fingers curling to grip me as if she’s holding on for dear life.
I shove down the roar of emotions, knowing they have no place in here with us tonight. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I nearly speak it out loud, but I’m able to stop short of telling the truth.
“Need you,” I pant against her lips.
She deepens her kiss, lifting her leg on my hip and pressing that sweet spot against my erection.
I groan with the warmth of her arms on my back, and she simply swallows those sounds and repeats them back to me.
Leaning to one side, I situate my weight so I’m not crushing her and let my hand roam. I trace the end of her tank top, letting my fingers trail along her lower body. She rolls her hips once again, and I know without a doubt I’m going to miss this. Her responsiveness is addictive, and I commit each sound, each touch, to memory.
“Fuck, please touch me,” I beg when her fingers continue to cling to my back.
We’ve done the teasing bit before, where she toys with me until I practically come unglued with need, but I don’t want tonight to be one of those times.
She obliges, her hand running over my side to the front of my boxers. She grips me in her fist, cautious of her stroke in an effort to keep the fabric between us from chafing my cock.
Her attention to detail is nothing short of a miracle, and as much as I want to savor every second, I’m also a gluttonous asshole.
I shift her panties to the side, dipping one long digit into her slit, taking the opportunity to bite at her throat when her back bows off the bed.
“Goddamn,” I say, meaning the curse as praise, because this woman is fucking divine.
I lick her skin, biting her almost too hard when she pulls the front of my boxer briefs away. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips at the first skin-to-skin contact when her hand meets my dick.
The temperature difference is evident—me being hot as sin compared to the heavenly coolness in her touch.
My balls are already drawing up, growing heavy with need.
I rip at her tank top, needing my mouth tasting everything she has to offer. Instead of complaining at the torn fabric, she raises up a few inches, as desperate for my mouth on her tits as I am to savor them.
