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“And I haven’t…”
“Haven’t what?”
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”
My heart starts to race because somehow I know how long. But I still ask, “How long?”
He stares into my eyes. “Two years, two months and twenty-five days. Well, kinda even longer than that but yeah.”
Oh God.
He hasn’t… not since the kiss. Not since he kissed me and…
“And before that I’ve never,not ever, done it bareback, Echo. I’ve never fucked a girl skin to skin. Never wanted to. Not only because it’s fucking stupid to do that but also…”
“Also what?”
He goes silent then. So very silent. And a light frown emerges between his brows as if thinking. Then, “I guess, I… Whenever I imagined all the things that I imagined about you, I’d imagine being skin to skin. No barriers. Nothing between us. Not one thing. Not even a thin piece of latex. And even though I knew that I’d never get to be with you, I still held out a stupid fucking hope. I still thought… what if? And so I… I guess I was preparing myself. I was saving that for you.” He scoffs softly then, lost in thought. “Not that it’s an achievement or something,savingthat. But yeah, I did. Like you were saving it for me.”
“I wasn’t,” I whisper softly, without any inflection or force.
“Real smart though, Echo,” he says, ignoring me again. “That you asked that. Real fucking smart. Because you can trust me to never ever hurt you that way, but you can’t trust me with the other thing.”
“What other thing?”
His eyes turn possessive then. So, so possessive as he says, “The pill thing.”
“What?”
“Years, I watched you with him,” he says, his features so raw and sharp. “Years, I watched you be his.Years, Echo. You didn’t think that if I got you, if I got anywhere near those creamy as fuck thighs, I wouldn’t send you back to him with your tight little pink pussy full of my cum, did you?”
A breath gushes out of me then.
My stomach hollows out.
And my pussy pulses even harder.
“You wouldn’t. You…”
“Yeah,” he whispers, his fingers holding me all possessively, like a predator clutching its prey. “I would. I fucking would. I’d stuff you full of my cum and send you back to him, with me dripping down your milky thighs. I’d fucking send you back with my cream pie in your pussy, Echo. I’d even come all over your tight little tummy and your juicy tits, hose down all your good and ripe parts with my cum and then rub it all in, just so you smell like me when you go to yourex-fucking-boyfriend. And if you aren’t on the pill, then…” He shrugs. “That’s the best goodbye gift ever, isn’t it? His girlfriend carrying a little secret in her belly. His best friend’s baby.”
It takes me a few seconds to gather my strength.
To gather my scattered, fuzzy thoughts enough to say, “No, you wouldn’t do that.”
He chuckles again.
But this isn’t dirty. This is mean. This is mocking.
Much like his words. “Wouldn’t I?”
“No, you wouldn’t,” I tell him firmly, looking into his eyes. “You’d never do that. You’re not like that. I know you want me to think that. But you’re not. You’re trying to scare me. You’re trying to stop me from going to Lucas, from telling him about —”
“Well, I already did.”
“What?”
His jaw clenches then.
