And suddenly she was there in my head again—Rowan in those damn bed shorts, hair tied up, looking at me like I was something she didn’t quite understand. A puzzle she was trying to figure out.
“Is this okay?” Nancy asked softly, her long fingers brushing against my chest.
I blinked and refocused.
“Yeah,” I said roughly.
She smiled and leaned in, her lips pressing against mine as she kissed me.
The kiss was soft and cautious, and I felt her hesitancy as she waited for me to join in. So I did. I kissed her back, hard. My tongue darting between her lips, my teeth nibbling along her bottom lip.
Because that’s what I was supposed to do. Because this was easy. Because this was who I was.
Her hands moved down my chest to my belt buckle, her lips not leaving mine. Her tongue danced softly over my own, her head tilted back as she groaned in the back of her throat.
My hands went to her breasts, covering them over her clothes and squeezing gently. I felt the hardness of her nipples through her thin shirt and tried to imagine all the ways I would suck and lick them.
Clothes shifted and skin met skin.
My pants joined hers on the floor, as did my cut and shirt. I pulled her top over her head to reveal a lacy hot pink bra, her breasts filling it perfectly. At any other time in my life I would have thought I’d lucked out with this woman, but right now I still felt nothing.
No fire.
No pull.
No need or urgency.
Just a hollow space where something hungry and eager should’ve been.
Nancy pressed closer to me, more insistent now, and my body should’ve reacted like it always did. But instead, I froze.
My hands stilled on her small hips and my mouth went dry.
Nancy was still kissing me, but my mouth was no longer moving, my hands no longer gripping her. She must have sensed the shift because she pulled out of the kiss and blinked up at me. Pretty blue eyes filled with hope and desire, begging me to take her. To fill her.
Her hands went to her hips and she shimmied out of her hot pink thong, and then she turned around and bent over the bed, her smooth peach of an ass in the air for me.
Nancy looked over her shoulder and smiled, a hunger in her eyes. My gaze moved from her face to her ass, and the wet, pink entrance I could see, waiting and begging for me.
My dick twitched, finally coming to life, but it wasn’t because of Nancy. It was because in my head I was thinking about Rowan. I was imagining Rowan.
How she would feel.
How she would look.
How she would taste.
I groaned, and Nancy’s smile grew larger and she shifted against the bed, lifting her ass up higher for me.
I wanted this woman—there was no point in pretending that I didn’t. She was beautiful and waiting, and desire was flooding my body like it was flooding hers. But all I could think about was Rowan.
The way she looked at me.
The way she challenged me.
The way she didn’t fall at my feet like every other woman in this goddamn town.
Was it Nancy and her pussy that was making my dick rock hard, or was it the thought of Rowan? Deep down, I knew the answer.
