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I popped free of him, watching as he clenched his jaw, staring over at his closet, almost as if he couldn’t stand to look at me.
I sat with my hands on his thighs, confused.
“But you didn’t—”
He abruptly stood, tucking his hard-on back into his jeans, cutting me off.
“Realized I didn’t need to after all.”
Heat began to creep up my neck. I was naked, on the floor, while my ex literally stopped his blowjob simply because he couldn’t stand my mouth on him. Frustration burned under my skin. Why go this far with me, only to reject me at the last minute?
“Is this part of me not liking what you’d do if I didn’t obey your rules about sleeping in your bed?”
It didn’t feel like that. His threat from earlier felt playful, sexual…this was different.
His eyes still wouldn’t return to me as he crossed into his open closet and came back out with a shirt fisted in his hand. Tossing it at me, he passed me, veering for the shower.
“Nope. Just didn’t need to finish.”
I stood, trailing him while I held onto the shirt. Because I didn’t want to be naked in front of him any longer, I pulled the heather gray material over my head.
“You’re lying. What the hell just happened?” I should have kept my voice down, and considered Laura below us, but my heart felt like it wanted out of my chest, and I hated that I’d put myself in such a vulnerable position with him.
He reached into his glass shower and turned the chrome handle until a steady spray of water heated the tiles inside. Wes ignored me as he lowered his jeans, and boxers, his cock was still stiff and hard.
I gestured toward it for emphasis. “I’m still fucking wet, you’re still hard. Why are you acting like this? Why even start it at all?”
He finally turned toward me and roared back, “Because I’m fucking weak, Callie. Okay? I can’t have you in my bed again and pretend like it’s not the only place I dreamed of you being for the past seven years. I can’t see you naked and not want to touch you.”
His whiskey gaze slid down my frame as pain slid into his features.
“Even now, it’s killing me not to touch you. You’re in my shirt, and I can’t put my hands on you, or hold you.”
I stepped forward to cut him off, thrusting my hand at my chest. “Then why don’t you? I’m standing right here.”
Tightness crept into the side of his jaw as he dipped his face, staring at the floor. The silence made my chest ache, and suddenly I wasn’t sure if I could handle this truth from him. Before I had a chance to walk away, he didn’t give me a choice.
“I can’t get them out of my head.”
My fingers pushed through my hair as I waited for him to finish, but the weight of his gaze nearly had my knees buckling.
“What can’t you get out of your head?”
With sadness in his gaze, he stared at me before shaking his head.
“Every single motherfucker who’s had you since you left me. Every person who tasted you, touched you, held you…I can’t get them out of my head. With you kneeling in front of me, your mouth on me, all I could think was the others you’ve tasted. That same position, that sultry look, that perfect way you know to push your tits out, pinch those dusky nipples while making me hard as fuck. How many other guys fell into that, thinking they were the luckiest person on planet earth to have you?”
My mouth parted with a shaky breath as I processed his words.
The guilt tore at me with phantom teeth, and a desperation to soothe his hurt lingered on the tip of my tongue. Right as I opened my mouth to explain myself, he opened the shower door and stepped inside, abruptly ending our conversation.
Tears blurred my vision as I lowered my gaze to the floor and briskly paced my way back to the bed. I wanted to keep going, all the way down to the guest room, but I didn’t want to cause a scene if Wes was serious about me sleeping in his bed.
So, I threw the covers back, pulled my underwear on, and turned off the light.
Once the room was dark, and I knew Wes was still in the shower, I let the tears fall. And for five minutes, I allowed myself to break.
It was so easy in my mind, how the past went.
