a breathy laugh escapes him.
“Yeah, angel, that too.
“And I get to decide who I give myself to.
“Who I wanna risk it for.
“So if it all goes to shit?” He shrugs. “At least I went all in for the person I fuckin’ chose.”
Well, fuck me silent.
Cock and soul. That’s it. I’m done. Tap out. Kill me.
Cock and soul, and now I’m moist and mute.
“You’re insane,” I exhale.
“You’re—God—you’re crazy.”
I laugh. Dumbfounded. Breathless.
“You forget the part where there's another guy?”
It comes out as a test to see if he’ll flinch.
He doesn’t.
'Cause he's a whole pie of psycho.
“As if you could stand the thought of another guy touching me, much less get me off. Andnowyou wanna talk about achoice like I’m not one hundred percent gonna fuck up? Like this isn’t gonna destroy me and everything I’ve built?”
My voice climbs. I can hear it.
That edge. That shake.
“I can see it coming from a mile away. You? Me? This?” I point between us. “We’re sitting here asking for it. Like two fuckin’ lunatics.”
I stop. I have to. My lungs won’t work with his stare hitched to mine.
This is why I don’t do Italians.
Their fevered intensity gets too close,
and suddenly
your lungs don’t belong to you anymore.
Andrew just smiles,
eyes lingering on me
long enough to land in my stomach.
It makes me want to throw this glass at the wall. Or kiss him until I forget why I started talking in the first place.
His hand dips down my thigh again.
“You done?” he asks.
