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Lorenzo’s eyes seemed to darken as desire took over. When he told me to rub my nipples, I complied immediately and felt them harden under my fingertips as my cock twitched. His breathing sped up, and he fumbled with some lotion before reaching for his cock.

He asked, “Does it feel good?”

I murmured, “Feels wonderful.”

“Jerk yourself off for me.” I quickly dispensed some lotion into my palm and did what I was told. Lorenzo swore softly, and then he said, “Imagine me kneeling behind you. Tell me what you’d want me to do if I was there.”

The words tumbled from me. “Completely take charge. Bend me over, pin me down, and fuck me hard. Show me I belong to you.”

I was stroking myself quickly, and he said, “Slow down, baby. It’s not time to come yet.”

For the next few minutes, he controlled the pace of my hand on my cock, alternately pushing me toward the edge and pulling me back again. Eventually, he said, “I’m close, Will. I want you to come with me.”

I met his gaze through the screen and whimpered as I stroked myself harder and faster. A few moments later, I cried out and shot into my palm. It was so gratifying when he groaned and came at almost the same time.

Both of us were winded when we finished, and I was shaking as I wiped my hand with some tissues. When I finally caught my breath, I said, “I’ll be back in five minutes. Please don’t hang up.”

“I’ll be right back, too.”

I retrieved my toiletry kit from my luggage and went into the bathroom, where I cleaned myself up and brushed my teeth. On the way back to bed I noticed the door had clicked shut, so I opened it a few inches and the cat slipped in.

I burrowed under the soft, white duvet and waited for Lorenzo to return. His phone was pointed at the ceiling, so I heard him before I saw him. Then he reappeared and smiled at me as he said, “Thank you. That was fun.”

I smiled too and murmured, “Yes, it was.”

He settled into bed, and after a pause, he asked, “Is that really what you want, to give up control during sex?”

“I think what I really want is to let myself be vulnerable and totally let go. When I worked as a prostitute, I had to remain guarded and leave my emotions out of it. Now, with you, it’s so different. It was actually a little overwhelming when we had sex.”

“Do you feel like we rushed it?”

I couldn’t help but grin as I admitted, “I’ve had a crush on you for months, Lorie. But more than that, we spent the better part of last year building a foundation of trust and friendship. So, from my perspective, no. We’ve done the exact opposite of rush it.”

He grinned too and said, “That’s a good point.”

“But I know you don’t want to start a relationship right now, and I’m fine with keeping this as a friends with benefits kind of thing until you’re ready for more.”

“Is that really what you want, though?”

“I want you, Lorie, any way I can get you,” I said. “I totally respect the fact that you’re still in mourning though, so no pressure.”

“It’s not exactly a question of being in mourning.”

“What do you mean?”

After a pause, he said quietly, “Javier cheated on me and broke my heart, and I’m having a hard time moving past it.”

“I can’t believe you never told me that!”

“I never told anyone.”

I asked, “Did he confess, or did you catch him?”

“Neither. One of our mutual friends told me he’d had an affair with my boyfriend for over a year, around the time Javier and I first started living together.”

“Are you sure he was telling the truth?”

“When I accused him of lying, he showed me dozens of texts and photos the two of them had exchanged, all dated from that year. That totally confirmed it.”

“Did you confront Javier?”

“How could I? He was so sick, and then he died about a month after I found out.”

“So, he had no idea you knew the truth?”

“That’s right. He thought he was taking his secret to the grave.”

I said, “I can’t even imagine what finding that out must have done to you.”

“It broke me. He was my whole world, and I trusted him. After he died, it was way too painful to keep living in our apartment, so I returned to the States and tried to put myself back together. But I’m starting to think the damage is permanent.”

“Don’t say that, Lorie.”

“It might be true, though. I already had a hard time trusting people, which is why I’ve had so few relationships in my life. When I finally let someone in, look what happened. Now he’s gone, and I’m left with all this hurt and anger, layered on top of loss and heartbreak.”

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