She’s so adorably expressive. I’ve always been able to read her expressions better than I can anticipate a quarterback’s next move.
“Are your parents really that bad?” Her voice is soft.
They aren’t. They’re just practically robots themselves, and the type of people who never should have had a child. It doesn’t really bother me anymore. I’ve grown to not need them. But maybe I can use this to my advantage. This warmth pulsing through my veins at her concerns is heady.
I want more of it.
“They’re busy people,” I say. “Very obsessed with their own careers. I think having a kid was just a box to check off their list of what a good life looks like. Once they had me, they didn’t want to deal with the hard work it takes to actually raise a kid.”
“Tristan,” she whispers, reaching out to touch my arm. I take the opportunity to take her hand in mine. “That really sucks,” she says. “Having neglectful parents can really damage a kid. Make them feel unworthy of love. I hope you don’t feel that way.”
My heart squeezes. She’s so damn sweet in these rare moments she shows me her softer side.
What if she fell in love with me? I bet she’d tell me while I’m inside her. She’d whisper it against my lips while I worshiped her with my body.
Fuck, I can’t think this way. I don’t want her to love me. It’ll make it so much harder to leave her behind.
I don’t want to hurt her.
I press a soft kiss against her cheek. “You think I’m worthy of love?”
“Of course you are,” she says. “Everyone is worthy of love.”
I ought to be relieved that she didn’t outright say she loves me, but here I am, wanting more. Always wanting more than she gives me.
I brush my lips along her face until I find her mouth. She opens for me immediately, and I massage my tongue against hers.
My dick grows as hard as concrete. I’ve never enjoyed the simple act of kissing as much as I do with her.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she whispers against my lips, her breath warm and inviting.
I pull back slightly, and our eyes lock together. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You just have to ask.” Her fingers trace gentle patterns on the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine.
“It’s nice to know that you’re…not impenetrable,” she says. “The more I get to know you, the more I like you.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, making me momentarily dizzy. She’s never outright said that she likes me before, but every time she’s softened, it’s because I’ve let my guard down.
I’ve shared things with her I hate sharing. Things that make my skin prickle with heat because my own words sound so embarrassingly pathetic and weak. But she seems to like it. And somehow, afterward, my chest feels lighter. Sharing with her feels good.
I could open myself up entirely…if only I could be sure of her.
Craving my parents’ undivided attention really fucked me in the head. Why am I so needy? I’ve learned I can live without validation. My parents ignore my thoughts and feelings now as much as they did when I was a kid, and I’m perfectly fine.
Yet somehow I crave her undivided attention. I want her to tell me I’m as interesting to her as she is to me.
This had better go away after I’ve fucked her. Craving someone this way makes you weak.
“Thank you, Amelia,” I finally manage to say, my voice cracking. “I like you more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
At times, it feels like I love you.
It’s not true. It’s just my horny brain playing tricks on me.
Her eyes grow wide. “Then why did you…” She swallows. “Why have you been mean to me in the past then?”
My chest pulls so tight it’s hard to take a breath. I wish I had never acted on my stupid impulses. The truth is she gets to me more than anyone I’ve ever known. One dismissive word from her over the years was enough to send me into a rage.
“I still think you’re boring.”
