THIRTY-TWO
Ben
Her pale aquaeyes are set off by the redness around them, so glassy from the tears falling down her face, and I hate that I’m the reason she’s crying. I have my own guilt at having pushed her so hard and fast on being with me when she was still trying to recover from her last relationship, and I wonder as much as she does if I’m right for her.
“You’re always what I want,” I confess before I lean down to kiss her because I can’t hold it back anymore. Not when she’s here offering me what I’ve always wanted. When she has my number tattooed on her wrist, telling me she’s in love with me. She kisses me back, but I can feel the hesitation in it, like she’s still worried.
“But not what you need?” she asks when she pulls away.
“That too,” I admit.
“I feel like there’s a but coming…”
“Are you sure you’re over Cam?”
She laughs in response, her fingers brushing away the last of her tears.
“Literally all I thought about every time he was around was how much I hated him for making things harder for us. And how insane it was that I wasted so much time with him when I could have had someone who made me feel the way you do.”
I smile in response to that because it’s too hard not to.
“I did warn him you really loved saying my name.” I smirk, and her answering grin makes my chest hurt with want.
“You didn’t.”
“Might have.”
“Good. He deserves to know the truth.”
I kiss her again, wrapping my arms around her waist and dragging her close to me. Her arms encircle me, and she runs her palms up my back. The smell of her shampoo and the feeling of her pressed against me is more than I can take, a sensation that had become all too familiar and then was ripped away from me. I’ve missed it. Missed her.
“So does everyone here.” I grin.
She looks up at me and rolls her lower lip between her teeth.
“How loud do you think you could be?” I whisper the question, raising my eyebrow in challenge.
“How hard do you think you can fuck me?” she counters, a devilish little grin on her face as her hands go for my pants, unzipping them so quickly her palm is on me before I can think straight.
“Fuck,” I groan as she works her hand over me, and I get harder under her touch.
“How do you want me?” Her tongue slides over her lower lip as she stares at my cock.
“Screaming against this fucking wall as soon as I get these off,” I answer her as I shove her jeans down, and she uses her free hand to help me as she kicks off her shoes.
I lean over running my hands up the back of her thighs and grabbing her ass, before her eyes snap up to mine, worry suddenly crossing them.
“What?” I ask softly.
“Do you have a condom?”
And I realize the real question she’s asking.
“I didn’t touch anyone else, Vi. I just came on my hand every fucking night wishing it was you.”
Her grin returns slowly as she studies my face. “Good. Now it is, so make it count.”
I haul her up against the wall, sliding inside her and pinning her there with my cock. Her arms wrap around my neck and her legs wrap around my waist in return, a little gasp as she rolls her hips to get herself into a better position. The movement has her pussy clenching down on me and making me grit my teeth.
