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“You can cry it out, though. That’s okay.”
“Yeah.”
“Let it all out. He doesn’t deserve you keeping it all in, and I’m here if you need—”
Shock slammed into me when she threw herself at me—or maybe it was me tugging her until she willingly came to me. Either way, I was gathering her in my lap and murmuring in her ear, telling her that everything was going to be okay. Her tears became sobs, like a dam had broken, and there was no stopping it. She clung to me, her hands fisting on my shirt and her head buried in my chest. Her body shook harder, desperate for the comfort I offered as she finally let herself feel the pain.
I felt it, too, and it hurt me that she had to go through that. I wanted to get my hands on the asshole and do all kinds of violent things unimaginable, but I knew I had to be the better person in this situation. Just as she needed a voice of reason, she needed someone to lean on, so I rubbed circles over her back and cradled her in her vulnerability. I whispered more soothing words in her ear, too, refusing to let her think for a second that she was the one lacking or to question herself.
At some point, her crying turned into soft sniffles and her shaking dwindled. She still clung to me, but the release had her calming down enough to finally look up. Blue-green eyes swam in my vision, cloudy but still so beautiful. She was pretty, undeserving of the tears I wiped away from her cheeks.
“I don’t even love him.”
The declaration had my thumb pausing. “What?”
“I don’t think I do. If I did, I would have recalled our memories and felt pain over the loss.”
“Don’t you?”
She tilted her head, mulling it over. Then she shook her head. “I feel hurt, but I’m also just really angry at him for wasting my time. How can you love someone if you think they’re just a waste of time?”
“It could be the pain talking.”
“No. It’s my pride talking. And the burning desire to give him a piece of my mind until his ears melt.”
Violent Sophie was a sight to behold, all indignant and refusing to stay defeated. I smirked.
“Brutal, but that’s the spirit.”
I doubted she didn’t love the guy. Pride might have made her angry, but it wouldn’t be painful if she didn’t feel anything for him. Still, my reply tugged a laugh out of her, melodic and amused. Something stirred inside me at the sound.
“I’m sorry I made a mess. Look at your shirt. It’s all wet.”
“It’s fine. It’s just a shirt.”
Her hand curled on my shirt, touching it. Touching me.
“But—”
“It’s just a shirt, Sophie.”
I was just a man, shocked when I first saw her on my doorstep looking like a dream, and reluctant to let her go yet. She didn’t seem in a hurry to leave my arms, either, and…
She was in my lap. Touching me. Warming me up.
“You’re so understanding, Matthew. You’re so kind.”
If she only knew the things running through my mind, kind would be the last word she would use to describe me.
“I’m just me, Soph.”
“Yes, you’re you. And you’re amazing.”
The words washed over me like a balm. At the same time, it licked a trail of pleasure down my body. She wriggled in my lap, an unconscious movement that hurtled fire straight to my blood. It wouldn’t take much to shift her position and get her to straddle me—or better yet, to take her hips and take charge. A fantasy formed of what I could do once I had her like that.
I imagined my hands wandering over soft, luscious curves and feeling everything while I undressed her. I imagined just lifting that shirt enough to catch a glimpse of what was underneath because the tight way her mounds clung to the cloth told me she would fit right in my hands. I imagined her nipples pink and pert, imagined my mouth licking and sucking on them until she let out the softest, sweetest moan.
I imagined sucking while my fingers found her pussy, wet and slick for me. Or maybe there would be no time for fingers because she would plead for my cock instead, needing me inside her as badly as I needed to be inside her.
