“I’m sorry.” There’s a strain in her voice, like she’s trying to hide the fact she’s crying. “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”
Something sharp stabs my chest. But I shake my head, holding my hand to where hers still rests on my jaw.
“What is it you think I want, Corrine?” I’m so thankful for the darkness in this room, so she won’t be able to see the truth on my face.
“You...you want to be together.”
A dog barks somewhere in the neighborhood, the low bass of a large canine. I let it get in a few gruff bellows before I speak again. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure that’s what I came here for.
“I came here to help you, first and foremost. And yes, I also came with the hope that I could maybe remind you who I am. But now that I’m here I think what you said in the hall outside Richard’s office?” I take a deep breath. “I think maybe you were right.”
Her hands cover more of me, my forearms, my stomach, like if she can touch me she can make me believe. “No. You are not a mistake. I’m so sorry I ever said that to you.”
I hold her skin to mine. “Not that. Youwerelooking for a distraction and I needed a place to put my grief, at least at the start. We turned into something more. But maybe we should think about reminding ourselves of who we are. Everything moved so fast. Maybe before we come together again, we take it slow?”
She pulls away in the dark but I bring her back close to me. Her hair tickles my chest. Her hands are cold. “I’m not saying I don’t want to be together. I want to figure out who I am without my mom and how I can be a better brother and friend. I want to figure out where I stand with my career so that when I come back to you and you choose me, it’s because ofme. I don’t want either of us to ever feel like this was a mistake again. I think it was the secret that made it hard. My sister said, secrets push people together but they also push people apart. And I thought she only meant her and I would be pushed apart. But it was you and me, too. We couldn’t be who we were meant to be if we were trying to keep it all a secret.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Maybe.”
But she doesn’t sound sure.Maybesounds like another word fornever.
She crawls up the bed and straddles my lap. Every cell in my body is desperate for her, terrified that this could be the last time. I am hopeless for her touch, even if it’s a consolation prize.
“Can we...?” she asks.
“What? For old times’ sake?”
The heat from her body is now the hottest thing in this room.
“Wesley,” she says, like she might say please. “Let me show you.”
No. I should say no. If I had a modicum of self-respect I would say no. When I leave here, I won’t have her back. But at least I’ll also know that she loves me, even if she can’t say it.
“Hurry up and kiss me already,” I say.
Her hands move through my hair, tipping my head back, and her lips come down over mine. She tastes like cherry-flavored lip balm and minty toothpaste and she maps every inch of my skin.
My cock is a steel rod. I think I almost have a stroke, I get hard that fast. My hands find her thighs, blessedly bare. I sneak my fingers beneath the hem of her T-shirt and play with her through her panties.
She gasps into my mouth, grinding against my thumb. The fabric is wet and I slip my fingers beneath it to glide them over her swollen skin. Her hands grip my hair to the point of pain in response.
I feel like I haven’t touched her in so long, too long. After a few short days, I’m a starved man confronted with an all-you-can-eat buffet. My eyes might be too big for my stomach, but I’m going to do my best to consume every piece of her.
I scoot lower on the bed, holding her up with my hands on her hips.
“What...?” The glow from the streetlamp outside illuminates the confusion on her face.
My hands move to the inside of her thighs and I pull her panties to the side. Her eyes are as big as planets as understanding washes over her face.
Holding on to the bedframe, she lowers herself slowly over my mouth. The salty taste of her, the heat of her body, it’s an electrical charge straight to my cock. I could live off the taste of her, her soft quiet gasps, her wetness over my upper lip and down my chin. I keep one hand hooked in her panties, with my other I palm her ass, urging her to move.
Other than following her cues, I have no technique, no idea for what I’m doing—I’ve never had someone sit on my face before. But none of that seems to matter. Corrine hovers over top of me, chasing my tongue with her body. I have the most amazing view of the underside of her breasts. But before I can reach for one, her hand anchors in my hair, holding my head in place.
“Oh fuck,” I say, muffled into her body. I love how she takes what she wants from me. She might have difficulty telling me how she feels but she’s never been afraid to take her pleasure.
She grinds down on top of me and I flick my tongue over her; her thighs tense, her breath hitches. “Fuck my face, Corrine.”
“Wesley. Yes,” she whispers and just as quickly as we started, she is coming.
