And as I melt into his touch with the taste of my salty cum on his lips, I have the sinking feeling that we can never come back from this.
“Marion,I have no idea what to do now. I was doing so good resisting him andnottaking your advice. We were letting professionalism win. There was a line. And now I can’t even see it anymore because it’s somewhere back on the beach where I let my boss—client, whatever—dry hump me like a horny mermaid.”
Marion snorts a laugh over the phone. “Technically, you haven’t taken my advice. I told you to fuck him.”
“Well, Ishouldfuck him now. I’ve already done everything else,” I grumble. But the thought of being so intimate with Marcus ramps up my heart rate again.
It’s about seven in the morning, and I slept terribly for the rest of the night, tossing and turning while I overanalyzed everything that happened. Marcus left the bathroom to change into new boxers, and by the time I had dried off, bandaged up my foot, and changed, he’d already passed out on the couch.
It was fine. Not like I was expecting a cuddle fest.
When I realized that I couldn’t make coffee without waking the bear, so to speak, I snuck out to walk to my favorite coffee shop and opted to call Marion because I was already jittery with nerves and regret.
I blow out a breath as I walk down Hemlock Street, trying to let the sea air calm me, but it’s doing a pisspoor job.
“J, stop freaking out. Wasn’t the reason you didn’t want to start anything with Marcus is thathe’dfreak out?”
“Yeah? So?”
“So, pot, meet kettle.”
“Look, smartass, this is a different freak out. And who’s to say that he’s not going to wake up and realize that his supposedly straight ass just had a dick in his mouth.”
“He gave you a blow job too?” she shrieks, and I hold the phone away from my ear with a grimace.
“Oh, did I not mention that part?”
“Uh, no!”
“Yeah, there was this incident in the shower when we got back. No biggie, really.”
“Except you took his blowie virginity, so that actuallyisa biggie. You’re right. He’s definitely going to freak out.”
“Fuck. Fine,” I huff. “Whatever. I think you’ve lost focus. We were talking aboutmyfreakout.” I reach Insomnia Coffee and linger on the street, not wanting to share my conversation with the baristas.
Marion sighs. “I think you need a little perspective. How does being with Marcus make you feel?”
I hesitate, a lie on the tip of my tongue. “I really like it,” I say finally. Truthfully.
“How many other people have made you feel that way?”
“None.”
“Then, I think you need to give yourself some grace.”
I think about the reverence I saw in his eyes last night and the way he touched me like he was cherishing something precious. It made me feel . . . wanted. It also made me realize that the fallout if I let him in could be catastrophic to my heart.
“What if he doesn’t want me?” I ask, a lump in my throat.
“J, if he doesn’t want you, he doesn’t deserve you.”
I blink the moisture from my eyes as I stare up at the sky. “I think I’m going to end it.” A blue patch breaks through the gray clouds, and I close my eyes as sunlight warms my face. “I need to go.”
“Sure, call me later.”
“I will.”
I hang up, buy my coffee, and start the walk back to the beach house. I opt to take the beach instead of going through town, but quickly realize that I can’t take my shoes off because of my injured foot. At least it doesn’t hurt much this morning.
