“The pills…”
“Red?”
“No! Dammit. Fuck Red. I’m talking about your one-man chemistry show. You didn’t agree?—”
“Oh.” He conceded with a grim sigh. “I see.”
My nails dug into his wrist again. “I won’t take the pill tomorrow morningifyou promise you won’t be a guinea pig anymore.”
His nostrils flared as his gaze dropped to my slit. I didn’t think anyone had ever given my vagina that much attention before. Not outside of a gynecological exam, at any rate.
Damn if it wasn’t preening—I could literally feel his cum sliding from it in a show intended for one patron.
Then, he made things a thousand times hotter by crooning, “For you, I promise.”
The relief I felt told me I was mad, but at least this madness was mutual.
Tears pricked my eyes—that was how deep the relief sank. Theshadow of fear for a man who’d experimented on himself drifted into the ether as I trusted in his vow.
In Stan.
Why did it feel as if I’d known him a lifetime? Or, even stranger, as if I’d been waiting one for him?
The bone-deep gratitude that he’d stop being a dumbass made me warble: “T-Thank you.”
He pressed a kiss to my nose. “Anything for you.”
And I knew he meant it.
As unideal as this whole thing might seem, mostly it was perfect.
Sure, consummatinguswould have been nicer in Martinez’s home, where I’d slept on silk sheets and expensive scents had perfumed the air. To be fair, a motel room was preferable to this dump. But he, me,uswas what I needed.
I licked my lips as he stopped teasing my clit and, instead, settled beside me. I didn’t regret it, mostly because I thought I’d have a heart attack if he put me through that again without anymore resistance training—he needed his own warning label.
Turning, I settled my hand on his chest. “Stan?”
“Yes,bedda mia.”
“Why did you do that? Experiment on yourself, I mean.”
He was quiet for so long that I didn’t think he’d answer. Then, he uttered hoarsely, “Atonement.”
I let the word settle inside me. Pulled it apart. Let the various connotations expand and contract… “Even if it wasn’t rational?”
“Even if.”
Silence fell between us, but he didn’t push distance, real or otherwise, into that space. We just lay there. Heart rates returning to normal, lungs calming.
“Stan, do you think…”
“What,duci?”
“We could go home tomorrow?”
His head tilted to the side. “Not Vegas?”
“This whole thing led me to you, so I don’t regret that, but… I dunno. I don’t have good vibes. I’d like to get home. New York’s not exactly safe. It’s home, though.”
