“What’s wrong?” Her sleep is lifting, and I need to sort my shit before she completely wakes.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart.” I lift an unsteady hand and graze my thumb along her cheek. She doesn’t fight the pull. Resting back down to the softness of her pillow, I count ten breaths before she slips back to sleep gracefully.
Fuck me, an afternoon of talking about my future and I’m back to dreaming of him again.
Lifting her hand from my chest, I carefully roll out of the bed, and trudge my way to the bathroom.
I fucking hate it when it comes back to me like this.
So unexpected. So fucking raw.
I wash my face in the basin, splashing cold water over me to calm myself down. I know it’s eating away inside of me, but I don’t know how to control it.
I don’t know how to fucking calm it.
I was doing okay until Sterling brought up the house.
Fucker.
“Hey, you okay?” I look up at her voice, annoyed she’s interrupting my moment, but relieved at the same time.
When I’m with her, I don’t feel so goddamn lost.
“Tomorrow, what do you have planned?” I ask as my answer.
Fuck Sterling.
“Nothing, I’m off. Why?”
“I want to take you somewhere.”
“Ohh, sounds fancy.” She steps into the bathroom and wraps her hands around my neck.
“Barely, but you might enjoy it.” I don’t reveal anything. Giving myself an out if I decide I’m not ready for it.
“Aren’t you on tomorrow?”
“I’m on call, but it’s only fifteen minutes out of town. We’ll be good. Now come on, let’s get back to bed.”
“Okay, but you sure you’re okay?” She pauses, not letting me escape.
“Never been better.” I lean forward and kiss her, stopping any more questions and arguments.
I don't need to think right now, not anymore.
I need to feel.
And the perfect way to manage it right now is with her.
“Actually, there is this one thing….” I trail off watching her hips sway as she pulls away.
She laughs on the way back to my bed.
Not a ha ha ha funny laugh.
A knowing laugh, a laugh that promises a good time.
Fuck me.
I love her.
Twenty-Two
Liberty
“So you own this place, but you still rent in town?” I ask Hetch as we stand in the middle of his house twenty minutes outside of the city.
Last night when he said he wanted to take me somewhere, I had no idea we would end up here.
“Yeah, I haven't had a chance to finish it.” He moves to a hallway closet and pulls out some sheets.
“How long have you been working on it?”
“A few years. My dad was helping me fix it up before he—” He stops talking and silence falls between us. It’s the second time in the last few weeks we've had a conversation stop with the mention of his father.
Unsure if I should ask for more information or let it drop, I let the silence stretch between us.
“I need to spend more time out here,” he continues, as if there was no pause.
“How often do you get to come out here?” I ignore the huge elephant in the room and let it pass. I know things between us are getting serious, but if there is an issue here, I don’t want to push him. I would rather he told me.
“I usually try to come out every weekend, but I've been a little preoccupied.” He reaches for me, wrapping his arms around me.
“Oh, yeah? With what?” I play along, raising my arms up around his neck. The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of craziness. Between keeping a close eye on Mitch, the other boys in the program, dealing with the Payton and Jett drama, and Hetch’s intense schedule, we’ve barely had any free days.
“Your *.” He’s so blunt in his answer but it doesn’t surprise me he uses those words. What surprises me is how I feel about his choice of words.
Is this all I am to him?
All we are?
“Oh, is that all?” I try to mask my disappointment, and maybe I do, but either way, he doesn’t read into it.
“What do you mean is that all? It’s not just any *, sweetheart. It’s Platinum Pussy.” I don't know if anyone has ever called my * platinum before, but platinum is good, right?
“Platinum?” I ask.
“Fucking perfection.” He kisses me deeper while his hands pull my dress up over my hips, revealing my naked ass.
“Jesus, you’re not wearing panties?” He doesn’t give me a chance to reply before he slides a finger between my wet and wanting folds. “You’re killing me here.” He moves his finger through my wetness a few times before driving two fingers into me. My leg comes up, wrapping around his body, seeking more friction. My head falls back at the sudden burst of pleasure.
“Hetch,” I moan, my body tight with need and my head loose with passion.
“Gonna fuck you now, B. Right here on the floor.” It’s the first time he’s called me B and my heart skips a beat when I realize how much I like it.