She moans at the feel of me, and one of her hands trails down toward my waistband, sending a shot of need up my spine as my cock gets somehow even harder.
Fuck, I want this. This is all I’ve ever wanted, for her to realize there’s something here between us, that it’s not just me hopelessly in love with someone I can’t have but that there’s a real chance for us to be together.
I need this. I needher.
I slip my hand around to the front under her shirt and up toward her tits, and I cup one of them over her bra as she gives me a soft moan. I want to hear more. I want to make her moan while she’s naked beneath me, her lips parted and her head tossed back in pleasure as I drive into her over and over.
Night after night, for a lifetime.
It’s that exact thought that forces reality to plow into me.
I reluctantly drop my hand from her tit, and I slow the kiss before I end it. I rest my forehead to hers as I draw in a shaky breath.
“Why are you stopping?” she whispers, and her hand curls around my neck to pull me back down to her.
I kiss her lightly and pull back again, straightening as I draw in a breath. She lets me go, and I think this might be the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“Fuck,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair as I walk over toward the windows.
“What are you doing?” she murmurs.
I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning one side of my condo, and then I turn back to her. “We shouldn’t need someone else’s permission to be together.” My voice is soft and raspy as I choke out the words.
“We don’t,” she says.
“You said it in the car. You said Archer gave you permission to be with me. Like that somehow makes it all okay.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Well, it does. It lets us be together without the guilt of having to hide something from one of your siblings.”
It’s a logical enough argument, sure. But for me in this moment, it’s the wrong one.
“If it’s right, there shouldn’t be any guilt. I can’t be some rebound for you. It’s not how I pictured any of this.”
“You pictured it?” She seems well and truly surprised by that.
“Archer wasn’t wrong when he said I have feelings for you.”
She moves toward me and wraps her arms around me. I feel my resolve weakening as my eyes meet hers, as I study those gorgeous freckles up close.
“What kind of feelings?” she whispers as she stares up into my eyes.
I’m quiet a beat, and then I eviscerate myself, choosing to turn my gaze to the window as I make this confession. “I’ve been in love with you for ten years. Maybe more. Fuck, maybe since I met you almost half my life ago.”
I glance at her, and her eyes soften as if in understanding. “You’ve waited that long for me?”
I clench my jaw, the muscles working back and forth as I contemplate how to answer that. “No. I couldn’t wait. I had to try to find some connection like I felt with you. I’m still looking.”
“But I want this, too, Ford. I see it now. I seeyou.”
“Then let’s take our time. As much as I want to take you to my bedroom, strip you naked, and fuck you until morning, I won’t allow this to be less than everything it is.”
She pushes up to press a soft kiss to my mouth. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
She has no idea how fucking ready I am. How ready I’ve been. It’s a contradiction to the words I’m speaking.
The right thing is often the hard thing, and this feels like the right thing. I finally nod as I try to search for what it is that will be the signal to me that she’s ready, the moment I know she’s well and truly over my brother and ready to move on.
I’m not sure I have an answer for when that will be, but I feel like I’ll know it when I see it.
