He’s mad—racketing my own anger higher and higher with each snarky comment. And as he finally sends that girl away, I finally get him where I want him, pinned underneath me as I hold him so tightly I’m certain it’ll bruise tomorrow.
But I also know this is as much as I’m allowed. Nothing more, even if he is mine.
Benjamin does not understand this—not as he runs his fingers over my jaw and dips his tongue into my mouth. Not as he gets even closer and says to me,
“Make me cry. No one else can touch me like that—not the way you do.”
And I can feel the heat of him and his desire, his desperation. He wants me so badly. And only I can give him what he wants.
I will rip him to fucking shreds. No matter how much I will regret it in the morning, I will not turn down the opportunity to tear him apart with my own hands. I know this, and so does he.
So, as the night pushes on, I lose myself in the taste of him. In the sound of his delicious little whimpers and the heat around my fingers as I sink into him. And it’sso good. So fucking good, as if coming home to something I’ve missed for so long.
I want him. I want him. I want him.
And as Benjamin’s coming around me, as my teeth are piercing his skin, I know I do not have him.
I sit, startled out of my own dream by the sound of my ringing phone. Just as it fades away, I blink against the sun peeking in between my curtains. What time is it?
That dream again.It’s not one of my favorites.
I love it because, in my fantasies, it’s the first time Benjamin and I go…that far. But I also hate it, because at this point in my fantasy life, I haven’t won his heart yet. It doesn’t stop my briefs from being any less wet, though.
Climbing out of bed, I make my way to the bathroom and strip naked. Yes, at the age of twenty-six, I had a wet dream. A wet dream where I’m in high school, and I’m fucking around with my dream guy. Pathetic.
But it always feels so real. As if I can close my eyes and still feel the warmth of his skin, I can feel my own desperation to get him alone.To have his heart and soul.
So fucking good.
My phone begins to ring loudly again, buzzing on my nightstand. Abandoning my dirty briefs on the bathroom floor, I take to answering my phone in the nude.
And of course, it’s my mother.
“Hello?”
“Rowan, you missed my first call,” is her greeting.
I sigh, dragging my feet as I make my way back to the bathroom to run a wet rag over myself. Looks like I won’t be getting the chance to shower anytime soon.
“Sorry, Mom. I was sleeping,” I answer, trying my damnedest to keep the irritation out of my voice—and failing miserably.
She scoffs.“Choosing sleep over your own mother now, are we?”
“Oh, please. What can I do for you?”
I love my parents, I really do. But we love each other best from a distance, with minimal contact.
“I saw you won the competition you were telling me about. I wanted to congratulate you,” she says, and her tone is short and without much emotion, but I can detect the pride and affection in it, however small.
“Thanks. I got a pretty hefty check, so I was able to upgrade some equipment in my darkroom.”
She makes a humming noise.“That’s good. Have you heard from your brother? Any calls or letters?”
I haven’t heard from Ramon in almost two years, so she knows the answer before I even open my mouth.
“No, but I’m sure everything is fine. He’s not actively fighting or anything.” I do my best to comfort her, because although she doesn’t show it well, she worries.
“Yes, you’re right,” she murmurs, now only half-present. After a beat or two, she circles back around. “Well, how’s Fort Myers?”
