“Don’t overthink it, Sorrow. Just go with the flow, baby.”
“Will you call other girls baby after our experiment is over?” The melancholy that’s always there, lurking in the shadows, overcomes me.
“I haven’t thought that far.”
I search his face.
“It’s the honest truth.” He slides his hand under my hair and lowers his head until we share a breath. “Can we live one day at a time and cross that bridge when we get to it?” He massages my neck.
I agree.
“Thank you, Sorrow.”
“For what?”
“For being patient.”
“I have experience with waiting.”
He sighs, and I almost regret what I said. Almost. I don’t want to ruin this moment. I’ve dreamed of this, me being held by Trace. Except it felt right to share a part of myself with someone other than Leigh and my therapist.
“Ready?” I ask, done with the thick tension between us.
“Ready.” He stares at my mouth.
I lick my lips. “Remember, full surrender.”
“Remember, you agreed to my condition.”
His gaze is intense. His jaw is locked. If it’s the last thing he does every day, he’ll make sure the heat is turned up and that I give him a list of all my favorite foods. That’s what I see on his face.
Trace Saints isn’t scary. He’s a good guy when he lets someone see the part of him he hides behind his nonchalance and smirks.
“Can I ask something?”
He smirks. “Nothing is stopping you.”
I have the impulse to smack his shoulder. “Can we change positions with you on top?”
“Whatever you want, Sorrow.”
I move off his body, and he gets off the couch.
We get back on the couch with me beneath his weight. I wrap my legs around him.
“Better?” he asks, cocking a brow.
I smile. “Better.” I palm his face. “You initiate or me?” I lift my other hand and skim my finger over his thick, dark eyebrow. I can’t stop touching him. Will it always be this way, me wanting to touch a guy over and over when my heart races out of control, my stomach tightens with anticipation, and my mouth dries, wondering if his kiss will wet my panties?
“Ladies first.”
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Close your eyes. I don’t want you looking at me.”
He doesn’t give me a smartass comeback. Trace actually does what I ask him to do. He closes his eyes, and this is my chance to take all of him in. Dark brows frame his eyes. Long lashes fan across his skin. There’s a dusting of freckles on the arches of his cheeks below his eyes. His lips are nice and full, and I want to taste his Cupid’s bow with the tip of my tongue.
Ladies first.
Smiling, I stick out my tongue and lick the downward curve of his Cupid’s bow. He is salty. Needing more of his saltiness, I cover his Cupid’s bow with my mouth and make love to it with my tongue.
