I sit back down on the edge of the bed again, my elbows on my knees as I stare at her.
“I loved everything you did earlier,” she tells me in the smallest voice, cracking with tears. “You’ve felt that with other women. I never have, and I feel like I’m sinking to the ocean floor, farther and farther from air. You just made it worse.”
We could argue about whose fault it was earlier when I was there, but I don’t blame her.
She’s feeling things whether I stand in her way or not, and maybe I expected her to ease her pain on her own like what I was planning to do once I left her, but apparently, she didn’t.
“Keep going,” I whisper.
Uncrossing her other leg, she bends them slightly and leans back on one hand. “What if I said I hated you?” she gasps, rolling her hips. “What if I said that you’re not the man I thought you were, and we don’t get along anymore, and whatever bond we had is just gone?”
My dick presses against my jeans. Does she hate me?
The tips of my fingers hum, feeling her dripping all over again. I lift my hand to my nose, still smelling her.
“What if I said I’m going to let myself meet someone now?”
I press my teeth together so hard my jaw aches.
“What if I said the man in my bed is the only one I’ll let protect me now?” she goes on. “And he won’t like anyone else stepping on his fucking turf.”
My heart aches, and I wince.Fuck.If someone else comes into her life, he will establish boundaries. If he’s worth his salt. I knew that, but now she does too.
“It will only feel good with a good man,” I growl, straining to keep control. “Don’t go wasting it on assholes.”
“I haven’t met any.”
“Quinn…” I warn.
You’ve met plenty.
But she looks right up to the camera. “Lucas.”
Her chest rises and falls, her heated breaths drifting into my ear and making my eyes nearly fall closed.
“Where are my panties?” she asks.
Sweat dampens the back of my neck, and I look over, picturing her in them with my mouth on the triangle of fabric.
“In my bed,” I tell her.
“Why?”
I unclench my jaw, unable to stop myself. “Because I want to feel them on my dick tonight.”
I hear her suck in a breath.
Reaching over, I place my hand on her panties and curl my fingers, bunching them in my fist.
Fuck this.
Fuck it.
I love her more than Farrow Kelly and Noah Van der Berg ever could. If it’s someone tonight, it’s me.
“Quinn,” I whisper. “Pull up your shirt.”
My voice is almost choked, my cock straining to grow under my clothes as I watch her on my screen.
