Troy raises his head and looks at me with a focus that borders on feral. Never taking his eyes off my face, he’s watching every reaction like he’s searching for a secret only I know how to give. Then, he groans a deep, guttural sound. It’s his own body coming apart. He’s close, so damn close.
“Come for me, Troy.”
I see his expression change into pure ecstasy. He reaches down, embraces his cock and pulls out, shooting cum all over my stomach.
For a split second, everything is silent except for the ragged sound of our breathing. I stare at my stomach — at the mess he’s made of me, the thick, white heat splattered across my skin. I’ve never seen anything so unashamed, so honest.
My thighs are shaking, my body loose and spent, but I want to keep looking at him, at his face as he pulses in his hand. At the way he rides it out, eyes closed, jaw tight, the wild in him finally let loose.
He braces over me, body shuddering, then looks down and meets my eyes. His lips are parted. There are flecks of me on his lips and chin, and that’s never going to leave my brain, not ever.
Troy lowers himself, settling his weight over me but careful not to crush me. For a long minute, we don’t move. Heat, sweat, the sound of our bodies winding down and the frantic thud of my heart, still racing, still not ready to let him go.
I drag my hands up his arms, over the sweat-slicked muscle, and hold him there. I want to keep him here forever, pressed to me, fused to my skin. I want him inside me again. He kisses me, softer now. I linger there, kissing him like I can somehow hold onto the last rush of what just happened.
Chapter 19
Rainey
Morning feels different. I feel different. I lie for a minute, staring at the ceiling, trying to trace back to the exact moment everything changed. It doesn’t come to me cleanly, only in pieces—the sound of his voice, the way his hands felt, like nothing about him second-guesses itself. The way I didn’t pull away, and more importantly, the way I didn’t want to.
I press my lips together and roll onto my side, exhaling slowly.
Troy is already awake, sitting in a chair beside the bed, pulling on his boots like this is just another morning. For me, last night rearranged something inside me that I’m still trying to understand. I prop myself up on one elbow, watching him.
“You always get up this early?” I ask.
He glances back at me. “Yes, it's a habit."
I watch him as he stands and adjusts his shirt. For a moment, I don’t try to be subtle about it. I just look at him. Not carefully … just honestly. This man. This quiet, steady, impossibly grounded man.
“What?” he asks, catching it.
I hesitate for half a second, then decide not to.
“What do you see?” I ask.
That stops him — not completely, but enough. His brow shifts slightly, like he’s making sure he heard me right.
“In what?”
“In me.”
The words sit between us now, clear and unavoidable. I push myself up a little more, tucking my hair back as I hold his gaze.
“You look at me like you already know something,” I say. “Like you’ve figured me out and I’m still catching up.”
He stares at me for a long moment, not rushing it or brushing it off. There’s no scrambling for the right answer, no discomfort in the silence … only consideration. Then he steps closer and caresses my cheek.
“Determination,” he says, very simply and direct.
I blink. “That’s it?”
“It’s not small.”
I sit up fully now, pulling the blanket loosely around me as I shift to face him.
“Explain.”
