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“I need you to be as sure about us as I am.”
“I am sure.”
He rakes a hand through hair left disheveled from my fingers, and there’s no mistaking the indecision in his expression. “Soon, Jules.”
My heart thumps an uneven beat. “What do you mean by soon?”
“When there’s nothing standing between us,” he says, buckling his belt, “that’s when nothing will ever hold me back from you again.”
He kisses me on the cheek, and I can’t speak as he slips through the front door, closing it quietly upon his exit. But my frustration is loud in my ears, screaming my disagreement. I can’t imagine dealing with this relentless throb between the legs until tomorrow, but there’s no getting around it.
He’s got me exactly where he wants me.
