Fuck him to get him out of my system?
That was a terrible idea, chiefly because the possibility of getting Jean-Christian out of her system was long gone. Fucking him would only serve to heighten her longing—she’d know the bliss of his body sliding into hers, the hard rod of his cock moving against the tender, throbbing flesh of her sex. She’d know the look on his face when he came inside of her, know the sounds he made when he climaxed and the way his skin smelled after sex. She would never be able to forget the way it felt to be held in his arms as she reached her own peak, his heart thundering beneath her ear as she rode out the surges and spasms of promised pleasure.
No. There would be no getting rid of him once she’d had him. There would only be a lifetime of wanting more. A lifetime of wanting something she couldn’t have. A lifetime of temptation and yearning, seeing him at every major life event of the child they would share.
So what now? her heart demanded again.
You’re falling for him…but you can’t fuck him.
You want him…but you can’t have him.
You can’t ignore him…but you can’t forget him.
Taking a deep breath that sounded jerky in her ears, she closed her eyes, searching desperately for a solution, and as if God heard her plea, a sudden vision of Neil appeared in her mind.
Neil. She sighed, some tiny measure of peace taking the edge off her panic. Call Neil.
She opened her eyes and turned to Jean-Christian. “Do you mind if I make a call?”
“Be my guest.”
She took her phone from her purse and dialed Neil’s number, praying he’d pick up quickly.
“Y’ello?” he greeted her, 100 percent a born-and-bred New Yorker.
“Neil,” she sighed. “Hi.”
“Lib!” he cried, and she knew he was smiling. She could hear it in his voice, and it made her smile too. “How’s Philly?”
“Good,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jean-Christian’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel, his knuckles an angry white. She shifted her body away from him, looking out the window. “I miss you.”
“You do?” He chuckled happily. “I miss you too.”
“Pick me up at Penn Station on Monday night?”
“Of course I will.”
“And”—she cleared her throat and lowered her voice a touch—“plan to stay over at my place?”
Neil was quiet for a moment before speaking, but when he did, his voice was huskier than it had been before. “Are you sure, honey?”
He’d never called her “honey” before, and she wished she liked it more than she did. She clenched her jaw and gulped. “Mm-hm. I want you to.”
“I’d love that, Lib.”
“Okay then.”
“I didn’t”—he paused before starting again—“I didn’t expect this. It makes me really happy.”
She winced. “You’re such a good man.”
“I just know what I want,” he said. “I knew it the first moment I laid eyes on you, Lib.”
Her heart stuttered at his admission, and the panicky feeling she’d been trying to assuage a few moments before came rushing back, much worse than before.
“I’ll text you my train info,” she squeaked.
“I’ll look out for it. I can’t wait.”
“Bye, Neil.”
“Bye, Lib.”
Pursing her lips, she pressed “End” on her phone and dropped it back into her bag. She didn’t dare look at Jean-Christian, but she could feel the tension, the fury, the frustration being thrown from his body like heat.
“How’d that feel?” he snarled.
“Fine,” she answered, wishing her voice had more conviction.
“Bullshit. You feel like shit now, and we both know it, Elsa.” She ground her jaw, refusing to look at him. “You’re going to fuck someone you don’t want to try to forget someone you do.” He let that thought sit for a minute before adding, “It doesn’t work. I’ve tried it. It just makes everything worse and hurts someone who doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
“You don’t know—”
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. I’ve had a lifetime of meaningless sex…which is exactly what you just offered to Neil.” His words, like jagged glass, cut her. “Poor trusting bastard.”
“Fuck you!” raged Libitz, hating him for wanting her and making her want him when he had nothing else to offer but smirky grins and no-strings-attached screwing. “Just because you like cheap and shallow doesn’t mean you get to criticize me for wanting something real!”
“Get off your high-fucking-horse. You’re not being real. Whatever you’ve got going on with Nice Neil is the antithesis of real. You started dating him about five minutes after we kissed at Ten’s wedding. You’re just using him.”
“And you’re just a whore with a big cock!”
“And wouldn’t you love to know exactly how big,” he growled.
Yes. Wait. No!
“You’re a pig,” she spat.