AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I still am,” I gasp. “This bathroom is microscopic.”
He just keeps massaging my arm. A few times, his hand dips lower, brushing over my hip before traveling back up.
I close my eyes and focus on the movement. On the human contact. On what is real and right next to me, not the irrational fear thrumming in my mind.
My heart rate decreases bit by bit. I lean deeper into Timofey’s chest. I let his scent swallow me up.
It happens slowly, the way we fall together. I press my forehead to his shoulder. Then my cheek. I can hear the steady drum of his heart, and I time my breathing to the even rise and fall of his.
Eventually, I’m lying against his body, more relaxed than I can remember being in months. Years.Ever.
Timofey starts to move his hand away, but I squeeze him hard. “Don’t stop. Please.”
A low sound like a growl rumbles through his chest, but he brings his hand back to my bicep. He massages my slackened muscles. Then he shifts and our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Like I was made to fit between his arms, to rest my cheek in the hollow of his chest.
Touching Timofey Viktorov shouldn’t feel this good.
Our hips align. I freeze when I realize this feels good for him, too. I try to slide my body away, but we’re wedged together so tightly and I’m so off-balance that I end up shimmying side to side against his hard length.
Timofey releases a breathy growl.
“Sorry,” I whisper. The word is muffled against his warm chest.
He chuckles softly. “I’d tell you not to stop, but, I actually like this restaurant.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask. My lips are putty. Barely functional.
“The owner is rather conservative,” he says. “Loudly fucking my date in his bathroom might land me on the ‘Do Not Serve’ list.”
“Are you—” I clear my throat. “Are you saying you’re loud in bed?”
He rubs his thumb in a delicious circle just below my neck and my entire body goes slack like I’m a robot and he just smashed my Off button.
Instinctively, I tip my head up to look at him. The blue in his eyes is almost gone, eaten away by the black of his pupils. He’s looking at me with such raw desire that I almost think it’s a trick.
Hecan’t wantmelike that. It doesn’t make sense.
“No.” He lowers his head until the tip of his nose brushes against mine. “But you will be. You won’t be able to help it.”
My body quivers at the thought. Need floods my nerve endings and pulses between my thighs.
I’ve been with men before, but no one has ever held me like this. Textbook “good guys” have stood by while I suffered alone through a panic attack brought on by a stupid compact car.
Yet, somehow, Timofey is the man who takes me to a private room to calm down. He’s the man who strokes my over-sensitized body until I can relax. Who tells me to breathe and, miracle of all miracles, it actuallyworks.
He turns my brain off and my body on, and I can’t think of a more intoxicating feeling than the one coursing through me now.
I want him.
He’s still staring at me as I press onto my toes. As I watch, stupefied, he leans down. He licks his parted lips, but I wish he wouldn’t—because I want to do that for him.
I want to taste them on my own tongue.
I let my eyes flutter closed and the rational part of my mind go to sleep.
Maybe this will be the first step to learning how to take care of myself. Letting myself indulge in Timofey—just for a moment—can be the watershed moment I’ve been waiting for.
Just as I feel the warmth of his lips on mine, however, reality comes knocking.
