And the best way to make that happen?
To make LeCharles feel that.
I moved my lips from his and down to his thick neck. LeCharles let out some groans, muttering my name. It was the first time either of us had said a word since we’d started kissing, and I loved it. Rather than pull me out of the moment, it only got me more riled up. It also didn’t hurt that his hands were working inside of my pants, squeezing my ass. The position of our bodies made it impossible for him to reach down in front of me, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make the effort.
I then continued my trail of kisses down his chest, down his stomach, down to his V-cut. And now his damn jeans were in the way.
I sat up, reached down, and unbuttoned them. LeCharles didn’t say anything, but I could see for the briefest of moments some hesitation on his part. And it was just enough to make me pause.
Were we really going to do this? Was this really a good idea? Were we going to do something that could lead to a whole host of complications?
My desire for LeCharles was great. My lust for him was great.
But...
Was my love for him great? Was this too fast? For all that I had said about being strong and being willing to step aside if LeCharles was going to be this way, was having sex with him at the first moment really that? Or was it me begging for him through the use of my body?
I paused just long enough to make eye contact with LeCharles. I could sense the same feelings of confusion and uncertainty pouring through him. It was no secret that he was rock hard beneath me, and all it took was about one yank on his now-unbuttoned jeans and boxers to have sex. It would have been so easy.
But would it have been what we needed right now? Or would it just have been sexual release brought about by a natural response to a hot man?
In other words, did I really want sex because I wanted LeCharles, or did I want sex because I just wanted sex in general?
“Rose?” he finally said.
I put my hands on his jeans and boxers, squeezed, and gently leaned forward as if massaging his groin. But I shook my head.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I don’t know if this is right yet.”
I braced myself for the worst. I prepared myself to be called a fucking tease, a slut, a whore, a no-good bitch who used him... I accepted that I’d hear things far worse than I ever heard at Joe’s Java or in the grocery store.
He spoke.
And it floored me.
“I feel the same way, to be honest.”
LeCharles…
I nodded, leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. I cuddled him closely.
“I want to have sex, don’t get me wrong,” I said. “But I want to make sure that I want to have sex with you, if that makes sense.”
LeCharles chuckled.
“It sounds a bit ridiculous, but I think I understand.”
“I want to make sure that the person I’m sleeping with is the person that I want to be with. I’m so grateful that you saved me from the Brewskis situation, but I want... ”
I didn’t say anything else. LeCharles knew what I wanted. I felt that saying it out loud would somehow cheapen it.
No, that’s not it. You’re afraid to say it. Which means you need to say it.
“I want to know if I sleep with you, LeCharles, that it’s the you that I fell in love with a decade ago,” I said. “I don’t want it to be this current iteration. You still have a good heart, but you’ve been kind of an asshole to me.”
I could scarcely believe the words coming out of my mouth right there. The man I’d been so desperate to have back in some fashion, I had just called an asshole? What was the world coming to?
Shit, maybe I really was getting my strength back. Maybe I finally was moving things forward in the right direction.
