Lucky for me, she wanted it, too.
I can’t put into words how it felt to finally touch her again. I’ve fantasized about it too many times to count, and then it happened, and I got lost in sensation after not feeling anything for way too long. Nothing has ever felt as right as being inside her. The moment I sank into her … fuck. It felt like my chest was going to explode. Too much emotion. Too much love.
Too much everything.
I tried to tell myself it was just fucking, but I knew it wasn’t. It never could be with her. As much as I like to think I’m getting desensitized to how she affects me, I know it’s bullshit. I’m desensitized as long as she doesn’t touch me. Or look at me. Otherwise, I want to launch myself across the room and tackle her. Kiss her until she can’t stand up. Make love to her until she can’t sit down.
Pretty sure I achieved both of those things on Friday night. And again this morning.
The bastard part of me hopes she’s sore and that every time she winces, she remembers the feel of me deep inside her.
Fuck.
Now I’m hard again.
I can’t masturbate. I seriously can’t. Apart from how I’d probably scream in agony if I even looked at my cock right now, I just couldn’t go back to fucking my hand when I’ve known the perfection of being inside her. There’s no way.
I know we agreed it was stupid and that we shouldn’t do it again, but I want to.
If I wasn’t such a *, I’d ask her if we could try again, but I know that’s not an option. I’ve screwed things up so badly with us, I don’t think they’ll ever be right, no matter how much I want them to be. Plus, despite how amazing our sex marathon was, it doesn’t change how my brain works. It just gave it something more pleasurable to focus on than all the ways the universe can screw me.
Still, the distraction is addictive. If I have sex often enough with her, would it make me feel like I could make things work between us?
It’s so tempting to find out.
So tempting.
February 13th
Yeah, I’m in trouble. I’m not sure what I thought would happen when I saw her today, but I didn’t expect her to transform into someone who makes my dick even harder. She walked into class like she owned it and fixed me with a look that was so sexy, I don’t think I’ll ever be flaccid again. I mean, she’s always been fiery, but today … I don’t know. It’s like Friday night awakened something inside her. Something powerful. As soon as she stepped into the room I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was thrumming with energy. Sexual confidence.
It was fucking mesmerizing.
I have no idea how to deal with it. It’s like she’s now this supernova—dazzling and deadly—and even though I know she’ll make me blind, I can’t look away.
She flirted with me, and even stranger, I flirted back. What the fuck is going on?
Can it be that one incredible night can make us work correctly? Overcome so many of our issues? It seems unlikely.
I think we’re just both a little high from the experience, but I’m sure when that wears off, I’ll realize she’s too good for me, and she’ll remember she hates me, and we’ll go back to being dysfunctional and distant.
To be honest, I hope that’s what happens, because this new Cassie? If I’m not careful, she’s going to fucking ruin me. And God help me, I’d enjoy every second of it.
I caught her staring at me today, and I could tell she knew. It’s like a game to her, and like it or not, I’m letting her win. Seeing her like that? All powerful and confident? It almost makes the massive ache in my balls worthwhile.
Actually, no. It really doesn’t. I need to have sex with her again. Now.
For so long, I dictated how our relationship would go. Tried to control it and my feelings for her. Now, she’s in the driver’s seat, and even though I’m certain she’s hurtling us headfirst into a massive fucking wall, I know that if she wants me again, I’ll come running. Depending on how horny I am, that last statement may be literally true.
I laugh. He’s pretty spot-on in his assessment.
Back then, teasing him was always one of my favorite ways to exert control. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but it was addictive. The power. The temporary intimacy.
I put down the journal and ignore the tingling between my legs. That hungry little ache was the cause of so much trouble at that time. It convinced me I could have him physically without wanting more. Demanded him, time and time again. Shushed my heart when it complained we were getting too close.
It just wanted, and didn’t care how many lines became blurred in the process.
I close my eyes and ignore it while I cuddle my pillow and resist the hypnotic whispers of my stupid, power-hungry libido.
SEVENTEEN
COLLISION COURSE
Five Years Earlier
Westchester, New York
The Grove