AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I drop my hand as he pulls away, breaking the contact, and look at him, dazed. He brushes his thumb over my cheek.
“You’ll be late for work.”
Work. Right. Yep.
I turn away from him and open my door, pausing for a moment to say, “Thanks for the ride,” before I get out and slam it behind me.
But I still hear his, “You’re welcome,” reply as I run across the parking lot in the pouring rain.
I duck inside the back door and peer through to the bar. My lips feel swollen and achy from that kiss, and a hundred feelings are swirling throughout my body. Ones I don’t want to feel. Ones I have no place feeling.
Ones that are fucking dangerous for me to feel.
My gaze sweeps across the bar, and for the first time in my life, I’m glad to see Old Dill with an empty pint glass.
I think my vibrator is broken.
It must be. I’m not willing to admit the alternative—that my orgasm is maybe a little broken.
At least I have my orgasm, I rationalize while pouring a cup of coffee. It’s lackluster and the spark seems to have disappeared somewhat, but it’s there. It’s enough to get rid of the sexual frustration.
Of course, I know how to fix it. All I have to do is think about a certain British man and wheeee! There she is. But that is not a smart move.
I’m beginning to crave a man I barely know.
The sound of his voice, the brush of his fingertips across my palm, the darkness of his gaze. Every minute I spend with him only adds fuel to the fire. I’m wanting him in a way that’s forbidden, if only by myself. I want him in a way that’s oh so tempting.
Want and crave are different. Want is safe. You can be on a diet and want a chocolate bar, but it doesn’t mean you’ll give in. If you’re on that diet and you crave a chocolate bar, you can bet your ass you’ll have that chocolate. And when you crave, you’ll rationalize it. You’ll give yourself a thousand good reasons why it’s okay to have that one little chocolate bar. It won’t hurt. It’s just one.
My body tingles with the very thought of having Tyler inside me once more. All it will take for the want to turn to a craving is perhaps something as simple as a single touch from him. Then I could have him, have his body, just one more time.
And I could rationalize that it’ll be okay because one more time won’t hurt. One more time of having his lips across my skin, my breast in his hand, his tongue across my clit, my hips tilted as he drives his cock deep inside me… It wouldn’t hurt.
But it would. It would sear into my skin. Burn me. Consume me. Possess me.
I know my limits. I know my boundaries. And Tyler Stone breaks every single one of them.
I sip my coffee slowly, absently scratching under Angus’s chin. His purrs echo through my silent apartment, the low thrum of it relaxing to me.
What am I doing, really?
How can I realistically expect Tyler to stay away from me when I can’t accomplish the same thing? How can I expect him not to touch me when I don’t push him away? How can I expect him not to kiss me when, whenever he does, I respond as enthusiastically as he does?
“Oh, Angus. I need a vacation.”
He meows and dips his head to rub it against my palm. I smooth the fur along his back.
“That wasn’t a vacation. I was working. Then I went to see my parents. Yes, I know you’re upset you didn’t come, too.” I pat his head. “I’ll take you next time. I promise.”
Talking to your cat: the first step to spinsterhood.
“Maybe we should get you a lady friend,” I sigh.
He jumps from the counter and sidles over to the door. I open it and follow him downstairs. He nudges the main door with his head, and when I open that too, he rewards me by walking a figure eight around my feet before darting through the door.
A foot blocks my shutting it, and I look up, set for another argument with Tyler. But it’s not him.
“Where’s Lord Grumpyass off to?” Dayton asks, following me up the first flight of stairs.
