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“Oh, okay,” she says, and I don’t give her any more explanation as I bolt from the studio.
A nerve hardens in my jaw.
It’s better this way.
* * *
The abstract paintinghanging on the wall of our suite’s living room reverberates as I slam the front door.
I needed to get out of there, throw away the note that she definitely can’t read. There’s no good reason to inform her of my inadequacy, but I hate that she was so honest with me and I ran.
Isn’t that exactly what I told her not to do during our fight?
“Dammit.” I drag my palm over the damp strands of hair stuck to my forehead. I walk over to our small kitchenette and fill up a glass of water.
Yoga is hard enough without having to hide a hard-on the entirety of the class, touching Molly’s warm skin, and having to share deep, intimate secrets.
What the hell is up with this resort?It’s as if half the activities are supposed to make you extremely turned on.
What am I even thinking? We’re in a marriage preparation course. Of course that’s what they’re supposed to do.
I was certain I’d be able to handle it.
As I chug down my glass of water, the image of Molly’s perky ass and spandex-wrapped curves sears itself into the backs of my eyelids.
I can’t keep thinking about Molly like this. We agreed that the physical exploration—Christ, I sound like Lolita now—wasn’t going any further than that one kiss in the library.
Absolutely not.
I find my way into the bathroom, turning the shower to a blistering cold, and strip off my clothes. My cock springs out of my shorts, achingly hard.Ignore it.
Then I see my demise.
Hanging from the hook on the back of the door is one of Molly’s bras.
A lace one. The fabric is cream with a pattern of pink flowers.
She’s everywhere. In this room, in my head, in the boiling blood in my veins.
I reach for the undergarment and realize my mistake.The lace is soft and delicate, like her. I trace my fingers along the seams.
She’d look so beautiful taking this off for me. Could I take my time with her and give her the orgasm she deserves?
I jolt.
No thinking about Molly naked. This thingmust be my kryptonite.I need to get rid of it.I’ll just put it back for her, get it out of our shared bathroom, and get on with my shower.
I fling open the door and stare at our bed. Her side by mine. Most nights, Molly shuffles closer and closer to me beneath the covers. I have to mummify myself with our sheets to resist scooping her into my arms and not letting her go.
My cock aches. A shot of pain wraps around the base of my spine.
No.I’m stronger than this.
Dammit. It’s literally just a bra! I’m a grown man getting hard over fabric.
I loop into the walk-in closet, leave it on top of Molly’s dresser, and return to the icy shower. The cold droplets pellet my skin. I lather my palms with soap and drag the foam over my body.
The scent of red ruby apples consumes me.
