Page 105 of The Sweetest Return

My mouth opened.

Then closed.

“Dre.”

“What?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I remember.”

The certainty in his voice reached into places I had been trying very hard to leave alone. I had spent so long pretending memory was a box I could keep closed if I stayed busy enough.

Dre apparently had a key and no manners.

“I remember something else too,” he said.

My voice came softer than I meant it to. “What?”

“One morning at my apartment. You had on that little tank top and panties.”

I knew immediately.

“Oh my God.”

“You know exactly which morning I’m talking about.”

“I know you need to behave.”

“I woke up before you,” he said, ignoring me completely. “Sun coming through the blinds. You were on your back, hair all over my pillow, covers down around your waist like you had kicked them there in your sleep.”

My breath changed before he said the rest.

“You looked peaceful. Face soft. Lips parted a little. One arm over your head like you owned my whole bed.”

“I probably did.”

“You did.” His voice dipped. “And that little tank had shifted.”

I closed my eyes.

“One of your breasts had slipped out.”

“Dre.”

“Your nipple was already hard too. Just sitting there pretty as hell while you slept, like you were trying to ruin my whole morning before you even woke up.”

My fingers curled into the sheet.

“I laid there for a minute trying to be decent.”

“You?”

“I said trying.”

A laugh slipped out of me, soft and shaky.

“Didn’t last long. I leaned down and put my mouth on you.”