His voice whispered through my blood, setting fire to the gunpowder between my legs.
I came.
Spindles and shooting stars and spectacular bliss.
He swallowed my pleasure, his tongue diving in time with his erection.
“God, Nila.” Every emotion he’d kept hidden lashed around me like a vow. “I love you.”
Wetness spurted inside me as he let go.
He let go of everything.
For a split second, my heart hardened remembering what he’d done. How he’d stolen my right to carry his baby for the foreseeable future, but then I gathered him closer. There was time for that. Time for us to grow together with no more games or traps.
This was us.
This was freedom.
He’d conquered whatever demons had ridden him. He’d given them to me to share the weight.
When his body relaxed and the last wave of his orgasm filled me, he pulled away.
His eyes locked on mine; he traced his thumb over my mouth. “No more winners or losers. No more hiding or pretending or lies.
“I’m ready to tell you. I’m ready to face something new.”
* * * * *
I settled back into bed, never taking my eyes off Jethro.
He placed the tray he’d brought from the kitchen between us, tucking his long legs under the sheets, giving me a fearful smile.
For the past hour, he’d prepared himself.
We’d showered silently.
We’d dressed wordlessly.
Then he’d disappeared to the kitchen to grab some freshly made baguettes, pâté, cheese, and grapes. He’d also fetched some painkillers for his hangover but didn’t make a move to swallow any of the drugs he’d popped like candy.
All he wore was a pair of black-boxer briefs and a dark grey t-shirt. I’d slipped into an oversized jumper and a pair of white knickers. Together we’d made camp in my bedroom. I never wanted to leave.
His tinsel hair was still damp from the shower and his eyes kept flickering away from mine. He focused on preparing a cracker with smoked cheddar and mushroom pâté before passing it to me.
I took it, brushing my fingers with his.
He winced but smiled softly.
I didn’t rush him.
I couldn’t. Not after seeing him crack so deeply.
We ate in silence for a time.
Jethro was the one to start—as I’d planned—as he needed to be.
“Remember that text I sent you?” His head tilted, watching me closely.
