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She thinks this was a spur-of-the-moment, lapse-in-judgment fuck?
“You decide and let me know,” I say against her hair before kissing it.
“That’s your answer?”
“Dyson, anytime I’m with you is never a mistake. That’s how I feel, but you have to make that decision on your own.”
“You don’t … you don’t regret this? You hate me.”
I pull away and rest my hands on her still-shaking legs. “I’vewantedto hate you for years, but I can’t. My heart won’t allow it.”
She grins, which causes me to grin back.
“And don’t fucking smile like that.”
She doesn’t stop. “What?”
“You know what.” I lightly tickle her side. “You always liked it when I was wrapped around your little finger.”
“You were never wrapped around my finger. You were a good boyfriend. Nothing like my friends’ boyfriends who would brag about every base they hit with them, and then the girls would get slut-shamed while the guys would get high fives. You kept everything we did between you and me. You respected me.”
Yet she didn’t respect me enough to be honest.
I hold my response in, and her legs are wobbly as I help her down from the table. Nearly every piece of furniture in here has been sex-broken in by us when we were teens, except this one until now.
I make sure she’s stable and grip her hips when she leans back against the table. “You ready to sleep in my bed now?”
She reaches down to link our hands. “Only if you join me.”
I allow her to lead me to the bed and watch as she rips the blankets down. She flips the light off, and we quietly slide into bed. It feels comfortable when I pull her into my side, like she’s always belonged there and a missing piece of myself has been put back in place.
“That better than expensive-ass piano sex?” I ask, squeezing her side.
She laughs and snuggles in closer. “Much better.”
Twenty-One
Lauren
Wakingup next to Gage is a high I never want to come down from.
Sex might complicate our situation, but I don’t regret it.
Sex with teenage Gage was amazing.
Sex with grown-up Gage is nothing like I’ve ever experienced.
That doesn’t mean I’m not scared.
Sometimes, history shouldn’t be dug up.
One thing is for sure; history repeated itself in the sex department.
Never have I felt something so intense and intimate as what I feel with him—every single damn time.
I turn on my stomach and rest my palm on his chest, looking up at him. “Good morning, landlord.”
He chuckles and sleepily looks down at me. “Morning, beautiful.”
