His palm slides up my spine. “I think about it. You. All the time. Where we’d be. What it’d look like years from now. I fuckin’ see it.” Andrew swallows. “I know what I’m walkin’ into. I’m not here to compete with your addiction or your contract.
“Not askin’ you to throw it all away for me.
“Not here to fix you or save you or tear your whole life apart either. I know you don’t need me. You been takin’ care of yourself this whole time.”
He shrugs.
“All I’m askin’ right now is for the option.
“At least give me a choice.
“Send me the contract. Let me go over it.
“Let me decide if it’s somethin’ I can handle.”
My breaths fall deeper, more ragged.
I bite my lip hard, bury the sound in his shirt.
His hand slides up,
wraps around the back of my neck.
His exhale spills out right next to my ear.
And when it breaks?—
when my body lets go?—
my head falls back in his hand,
and he holds me close,
dragging his knuckles across my cheek,
watching my face as I come.
My body sighs into him,
the climax stuttering through his chest,
his hips.
Normally, I disappear. Numb out. Drift off.
The high leaving me to float above it.
Be out of reach.
But I’m still here.
Still fucking here.
Trapped in his gaze.
Feeling all of it?—
his hands, his chest, his breath hitting my lips.
