And the way I’m starting to realise I don’t want to let him go.
35
It Just…Happened
Geoff
Christa comes down slowly.
Her breathing evens out first. Then her body softens, weight sinking into the mattress like she’s finally let go of something she’d been holding too tightly. Her eyes flutter open, heavy-lidded and unfocused, then find me.
There’s a small, dazed smile on her lips.
Her hand drifts between us.
Unthinking at first. Just movement. Contact.
She stills the second she realises.
Her fingers curl slightly, testing, and her eyes flick up to mine, dark and curious.
“What’s this, Geoff?” she whispers.
The question lands low and quiet. Not teasing. Not challenging. Just… wondering.
My pulse thuds.
There’s no pretending. No deflecting. Not with her hand already there, not with my body responding in a way that feels instinctive rather than forced.
I swallow.
“That,” I say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be, “is me being hard.”
Her breath catches. Just a hitch. Enough that I feel it against my skin.
“Well, hello,” she says.
Her hand doesn’t move away. If anything, it settles more deliberately now, warm and sure, her thumb brushing lightly, exploratory, like she’s learning something rather than taking it.
The sensation shoots straight through me.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I add quietly. “It just… happened.”
She smiles then. Slow. Intimate. The kind of smile that feels like a decision.
“I like that it happened,” she murmurs.
Her fingers tighten just a fraction and I have to close my eyes for a second, grounding myself in the feel of her, the scent of her, the weight of her leg still draped over mine.
“Is this okay?” I ask, the question leaving my mouth before pride can stop it.
She leans in, forehead resting against my chest, lips brushing my skin. “More than okay.”
Her hand moves again. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just confident, curious, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
My breath stutters.
“This feels… different,” I admit.
