“I told you I wouldn’t touch you unless you asked me to.”
I search her eyes, needing her to understand how goddamn hard this is. How close I am to losing this fight. How my cock’s so hard it fucking hurts.
Her fingers work the buttons of my shirt, one by one, slow, deliberate, eyes never leaving mine. “And this is me asking.”
“Babe… I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
My jaw sets tight.
She exhales, sharp. “I’m not that drunk, Matt.”
“You had whiskey. And champagne before that.” My voice is rough. Tight. Controlled by sheer will. “You’re not sober.”
“I wasn’t drunk when I ordered the whiskey,” she says quietly. Another button. “I knew what I was doing. I just needed a little push.”
“And you needing a push,” I murmur, “tells me everything I need to know.”
She opens my shirt and drags her hands over my chest, testing me. Tempting me. Daring me to give in. Letting me feel exactly what I’m denying myself.
I shut my eyes for one brutal second.
Then I grab her wrists.
“Matt,” she breathes, sultry, soft. Wanting. “Please. Touch me.”
Christ.I’m barely hanging on here.
I hold her there, breath ragged, my cock pulsing so hard I can barely think straight, every nerve screaming to just give in. To fuck her already. But that nagging little conscience of mine stops me.
I quiet the thoughts. The ones that tell me she wants this. The ones that say I can claim I was drunk too. The ones that remind me how fucking good she feels.
But the one that screams louder than the rest?
The one that knows the truth.
That she’s not some girl in a bar. Not just an ex-girlfriend. Not even just a friend.
This is Jordan.
My best friend. My person. My girl.
My wife.
I bring her hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “I’m sorry, babe. I can’t. Not like this. Not the first time.”
“It’s not the first time,” she argues. Her chest rises and falls, eyes pleading. “We’ve done this a thousand times.”
True.
I bring my hands back to her jaw, eyes locked on hers. “But not asmy wife.” I shake my head. “When I fuck my wife for the first time, I don’t want a damn thing to be fuzzy. And right now?” My thumb brushes her cheek. “You’re not going to remember this the way I will.” I press a soft kiss to her lips. She tries to deepen it, but I’m already ending it.
I let out a breath, resting my forehead against hers. A smile tugs at my lips. “Might be time to make use of one of those vibrators you packed,” I murmur. I kiss her cheek. “I’m gonna get some air.”
I back away, slow, with every ounce of strength I have left. I button my shirt and turn, leaving her standing there as I walk away from my two favorite things in the world.
Sex.
