My laugh comes out broken. “But…”
His mouth tugs into a small smile, but it’s not cocky. “My ego has taken a second hit. It’s okay though. I’ll survive.”
I swallow. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” His forehead wrinkles as though the idea doesn’t make sense. Then his gaze dips. “I’d never be mad. I just feel like a shit partner.” He pauses, then adds, “It upsets me that you felt you had to fake it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I think I’ve grown used to it.”
I’d be embarrassed to admit how many times I’ve been less than fulfilled by a partner and stayed.
He shakes his head once. “Don’t apologize.” Then he kisses me, soft and slow. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Tell me what you need.”
My chest lifts with a shaky breath. The truth is, I don’t even know how to answer that. Not without feeling as if I’m asking for too much.
So I say the only thing I can say. “I need to get out of my head. And I’m not sure I ever can.”
His thumb strokes my cheek. “We’ll keep it simple. You feel. I listen.”
“And I need it not to be a thing,” I add. “Not like… a scoreboard.”
His eyes soften. “There’s no scoreboard.”
I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
He kisses my forehead. “I’m not opposed to doing it until you get there. Practice makes perfect.”
My stomach flips from his wicked smile. I close my eyes, and for the first time tonight, the pressure eases.
Not because my body is satisfied, but because my heart is feeling something it probably shouldn’t.
Chapter
Thirty-Six
Foster
* * *
I’m a fucking failure right now, but I’ll never make it about me and make Callie feel guilty that she didn’t come.
Callie is on my bed, naked, hair spread across the pillow, cheeks still pink with embarrassment from admitting the truth to me. I want to do right by her. I need to get her there, and it sounds like I need to get her to relax and trust me enough to let herself go.
So as she lies next to me, my finger traces a path up and down her spine. We’re way closer than we need to be right now, than we should really be, but I’m only thinking about how I can make this right.
“I want you to tell me how I can make this happen for you.”
I hate that she ever felt like she had to fake anything with me. I hate that she thought my ego mattered more than she does. Like I was my dad or something, who always said you take what you want and you win.
So I slow us down. Even though my body is already lit up and ready for round two.
I brush my knuckles along her cheek first, giving her time to decide if she still wants me this close. If she wants to give it another go. Her lashes flutter, and she turns her face into my hand and nods.
I lean in and kiss her softly. Then I tease the seam of her lips with my tongue before going deeper. Her hands find my shoulders, running up and over to my back.
I pull back just enough to look at her. “Instruct me. Give me a sex lesson. Callie’s choice.”
She tenses for half a second. I don’t think it’s fear, I think it’s pressure. How many times has she swallowed down what she needed because it was easier than saying it?
