I tell myself it’s curiosity.
I lie to myself because it’s not.
But I don’t exactly know what it is.
I clutch the back of his neck.
I pull him close, nails sinking.
His forehead melts into mine?—
burning, undone, barely holding on.
The red light cuts across his face again,
hooded eyes shadowed, lips lit like sin.
I tug at his hair, kiss his jaw,
ghost my fingers across the length of his cock,
tracing the shape of him over his pants.
Then I press my palm up against him.
Andrew chokes on his next breath,
hips twitching forward,
finger faltering inside me.
His other hand flies down between us and catches my wrist. “Whoa, what?—”
His brows draw together.
He half-laughs, shaken.
As if his brain can’t catch up.
His fingers flex against my wrist.
“You’re seriously thinkin’ about me right now?”
I blink up at him.
“When I said I want you…
“I meantallofyou.
“In it.
“With me.”
Then he’s somewhere else,
his chest rising,
his head tipping,
