I’m sober, not a single bit of alcohol in my system, and I really fucking liked that.
I step away from him, and his face goes from euphoria to devastation. It takes only a second for me to realize why.
“I’m not running,” I say.
The relief that floods his face makesme feel awful.
What has he been through in his life? Fuck.
I move toward him again, using my clean hand to cup his cheek. He stares into my eyes and I see the slightest bit of panic.
“I am not running,” I say again. “I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but I am trying really fucking hard to be honest and open with you.”
“You’re doing good,” he chokes out.
I smile. “Thanks.”
I kiss him again, and not a single part of me feels like it’s weird. Not kissing him. Not having just made him come. Not having his cum all over me. This all feels… good.
When I step away from him this time, I keep my gaze on his.
“I need to shower.”
He nods as he fixes himself, then looks down at the paint all over the floor and frowns. I hurry into the bathroom before he can yell at me about it.
By the time I’m done with my shower, I’m still feeling okay with what happened. Actually, I’m feeling better than okay with what happened. So when I get back to the kitchen, finding Alex painting my kitchen cabinets like he’s a fucking pro, I lean against the wall and watch him.
I’m not sure if he knows I’m here, but if he does, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. I take the time to look himover, watch the way the muscles in his back shift as he swipes the brush up and down. Take in his lean waist and the curve of his ass.
I can imagine him bent over my counter, right there, naked. Imagining that has my dick twitching, and I think that’s a good sign. If thinking about fucking Alex makes my dick happy, then that means I can fuck him. Too many times in my life I’ve tried having sex with people and it just didn’t work. My body didn’t want any part of it. Am I willing to risk that again? The embarrassment of it all? I guess I could. This is Alex. I trust him. And if anyone can help me figure this shit out, it’s him.
But I also need to remember Maggie.
I’ve been waiting all this time for her to end things with me because it’s what I deserve. And now… I really fucking deserve it because I’m cheating on her. Which is so fucking shitty because she’s given me so many chances. I need to let her go. She needs to move on and find better things. Someone who is going to treat her right.
If I’m being honest with myself, which I am really trying to do right now, the sex thing is one of the reasons I’ve stayed with Maggie. She’s fine that we just don’t. We had sex twice, at the very beginning of our relationship. Then we had a conversation about slowing things down, and then things fell into how they are now. I know it’s not typical, from what I hear from other people, but it’show things are for us. But I don’t want things to be that way. I want to have sex and enjoy it because orgasms are fucking awesome.
“Alex,” I say softly.
The way he pauses and slowly turns his head to look at me over his shoulder, I know he’s known I’ve been here.
“I think I want to fuck you,” I add. His eyebrows shoot up and the clatter of the paintbrush falling to the floor makes me smirk because I’ve finally found the words that render Alex Brewer speechless. “I mean, I think I’m ready to try that. Like… taking the next step?”
It takes him a moment to clear his throat as he slowly bends down to grab the brush and toss it in the tray. More red paint on the floor… he’s going to be so mad at me over this.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that, but…” He shakes his head in disbelief, but his gaze meets mine and he smirks. “I’m not going to say no to that.” He laughs, but then his voice gets serious. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.” His gaze catches mine and he smirks. ”Plenty of times.” Then he blurts out, “No red flags you need to worry about, by the way. If you want, I can show you my test results and shit, but, uh—” He runs a hand through his hair.
“We’re good. It’s good,” I say, holding up my hand. “I’ve, uh… never had sex with someone without protection, so we don’t have to worry about that.” His brows shoot up again, but he quickly schools his face. “And I trust you,” I add.
Alex holds my gaze, not saying a word and I’m starting to feel a little awkward.
“Great chat,” I say quickly and hurry toward the door. I swear I hear him laughing as I step onto the porch, the door slamming shut behind me.
Chapter Forty
Alex
Painting is one of those things that’s always been able to quiet my mind, but as I finish the last coat on the cabinets, I have to admit my mind has been racing all day—ever since Jordan let out the words Ineverthought I’d hear.
