“I will help you. I can show you now.” I pull up the iTunes Store.

We spend an hour this way, me going through the catalog choosing all of her favorite music and showing her how to download those cheesy Tom Hanks romantic comedies that she seems to love. Tessa is nearly silent the entire time, only a few Thank yous and No, not that songs are given, and I try not to push her for conversation.

I did this to her, I turned her into the quiet, unsure woman before me, and it’s my fault that she doesn’t know how to act right now. It’s my fault that every time I lean into her, she pulls away, taking a piece of me with her each time.

It seems impossible that I would have anything left to give her, that she doesn’t already consume and own every single part of me, but somehow, when she smiles at me, my body comes up with a little more of myself to let her steal away. It’s all for her, and it will always be that way.

“Do you need me to show you how to download the best porn, too?” I joke, and I’m awarded another flush of her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure you know all about that,” she teases back. I love this. I love being able to tease her the way I used to, and I fucking love that she’s letting me.

“Not really, actually, I have plenty of images up here.” I tap at my forehead with my cast, and she grimaces. “Only of you.”

Her frown doesn’t waver, but I refuse to allow her to think this way. It’s insane thinking—that I would be interested in anyone but her. I’m starting to think she’s as crazy as I am. Maybe that would explain why she stayed with me as long as she did.

“I mean it. I only think of you. It’s always you.” My tone is serious now, too fucking serious, but I don’t care enough to change it. I’ve tried the joking, friendly shit, and I hurt her feelings.

She surprises me by asking, “What types of things do you think about me?”

I bring my bottom lip between my teeth as images of her flash through my mind. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

Tessa spread out on the bed, her thighs pushed apart and her fingers clawing at the sheets as she comes against my tongue.

Tessa’s hips moving in slow, torturing circles as she rides my cock, her moans filling the room.

Tessa kneeling in front of me, her full lips parting as she takes me into her warm mouth.

Tessa leaning forward, her naked skin glowing in the soft light of the room. She’s in front of me, facing away from me as she lowers her body onto me. I fill her as she gasps my name . . .

“You’re probably right,” she laughs, then sighs. “We always do this, we always slip right back into this.” She waves her hand back and forth between us.

I know exactly what she means. I’m in the middle of the worst week of my life, and she has me laughing and smiling over a damn iPhone. “This is us, baby. This is how we are. We can’t help it.”

“We can help it. We have to. I have to.” Her words may sound convincing in her mind, but she’s not fooling me.

“Stop overthinking everything. You know this is how it should be, us teasing one another over porn, me thinking about all the dirty things I have done, and the still more I want to do, to you.”

“This is literally insane. We can’t do this.” She leans in closer to me.

“Do what?”

“Everything isn’t about sex.” Her eyes focus on my crotch, and I can tell she’s trying to look away from the bulge there.

“I never said it was, but you can do us both a favor and stop acting like you aren’t thinking the same things that I am.”

“We can’t.”

But then I notice our breathing has synchronized. And ever-so-subtly her tongue peeks out and caresses her bottom lip.

“I didn’t offer,” I remind her.

I didn’t offer, but I sure as hell wouldn’t refuse. I’m not that lucky, though, there is no way she will let me touch her. Not anytime soon . . . right?

“You were suggesting.” She smiles.

“When aren’t I?”

“True.” She fights a giggle. “This is so confusing. We shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t trust myself around you.”

Fuck, I’m glad she doesn’t. I don’t trust me half the time. But I say, “What could be the worst to happen?” and move a hand to her shoulder. She flinches at the touch, but it’s not the same repellent flinch that I’ve been dealing with for the last week.

“I could continue to be an idiot,” she whispers, and I move my hand slowly up and down the length of her arm.

“Stop thinking, just shut your mind off, and let your body control this. Your body wants me, Tessa, it needs me.”

She shakes her head, denying the simple truth.

“Yes, yes, it does.” I continue touching her, closer to her chest now, waiting for her to stop me. If she does, I will cease all contact. I would never push this on her. I’ve done a lot of fucked-up shit, but that’s never an option.

“See the thing is . . . is that I know every single place to touch you.” I look into her eyes for approval, and they’re flashing like a neon sign. She’s not going to stop me; her body still craves me as it always has. “I know how to make you come so hard that you’ll forget everything else.”

Maybe if I can please her body, her mind will follow suit. Then, once I can break through to both mind and body, her heart will follow their lead.

I’ve never been shy when it comes to her body and pleasing her: Why start now?

I take her silence and the way she can’t seem to take her eyes off mine for a yes and reach for the hem of her sweatshirt. Damn this thing, it’s heavier than it should be, and the damn string is tangled into Tessa’s hair. She swats at my bad hand and removes the sweatshirt and detaches her hair from the thing.




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