Page 45 of Trying Not to Need You

“B-Bay,” I grit out. Am I dreaming? Fuck me. If I am, I don’t ever want to wake up.

“These are your rules, cowboy,” she teases.

The buckle falls open, and she makes quick work of the button, then the zipper, and then she’s shoving her hands down in my pants. Not just into my pants, but past the waistband of my boxer briefs, and her soft hand grips my cock.

I swallow hard, keeping my eyes on her. If she’s waiting for me to stop her, it’s not going to happen. I’m at her mercy.

“Is this for me?” she asks sweetly.

“All you,” I rasp.

“Mmm,” she moans.

“Baylor?”

“You said I come first.”

“I did.”

“Should we test that?”

This beautiful woman just scrambled my brain. “Bay?”

“I’m already wet, Mac. I don’t think it will take long. It’s been a long time since a man has touched me. Over a year,” she whispers.

I should have fucking laid his ass out while I had the chance.

“But you’re so hard,” she says, pushing my jeans down and stroking my cock gently.

“Fuck,” I rasp. “Baby, if you keep that up, I’m going to come in your velvety soft hands.” I pause and collect myself, thinking about puppies and how much I hate her ex, to reel myself in. “It’s been years for me.”

“Years?”

“Yeah, since before you graduated college.”

“What?” she breathes.

“I wanted you. It wasn’t satisfying when you were all I thought about when I was with someone. So, I just stopped. I had a plan, then you moved to New York, and I was still planning, and even after you brought fuckface home for the first time, I couldn’t. I tried a few times,” I confess. “But they weren’t you.”

“So, we both need this?”

“I need you,” I answer, because she could pull her hand from my cock, and I’d still want her with a passion I don’t know what to do with.

She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Every word.”

“Your words, the sweet things you say, they make me ache for you,” she whispers.

“Tell me what I can do to make it better?” I know how to make it better—fuck, do I know—but this is her show. She’s in control. I’ll give her anything she wants. Hell, she already has all of me, even if she’s not ready to admit it yet.

“Touch me.”

“Let’s go back to my place, or yours, or hell, a room at the inn,” I suggest.

“What’s wrong with right here?” she asks, stroking me again.

“I don’t want our first time to be in the dusty stables.”