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“Fuck yes. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
We were going to do this. Here, in the treatment room where I’d spent two weeks touching him clinically. Where I’d learned the landscape of his body in the most unsexy way possible.
And now…
His hand came up to cup my face. “I’ve thought about this. Touching you again. Being allowed to touch you.”
“Me too.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. This was a conscious choice. Not heat-of-the-moment desperation, but something I was walking into with my eyes open.
He leaned me back on the treatment table again and tugged my hips forward, positioning himself with the tip pressed against my entrance.
“This changes things,” he said, his gaze shooting up to meet mine.
“It does.”
“I need you to know—” His voice broke.
“What?”
“I love you.” The words came out raw, scraped from somewhere deep. “I’m in love with you. I have been since the picnic. Since before the picnic, probably. Since Crim showed me that photo and you were rolling your eyes at the camera.”
I went completely still. My heart stopped. Started again. Stopped.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he said quickly, his hands framing my face like he was trying to hold me in place. “I just needed you to know. Before. In case this is the last time. In case you take the job in Denver, and I never get another chance to—”
“Brashe.” His name came out broken.
“I know the timing’s shit. I know I don’t deserve to say it after what I did. But I can’t…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this without you knowing.”
Every defense I’d built was crumbling, and I didn’t know if I wanted to stop it or run.
“Say something,” he whispered. “Please.”
I pulled him down and kissed him instead. Because I wasn’t ready to say it back yet. Saying it meant admitting he could hurt me again. Love was the scariest thing I’d ever felt, and I needed more time.
He kissed me like he understood. Like he’d wait as long as it took.
He entered me slowly, watching my face the entire time, seeing every reaction. Stroking my clit in a way that made heat swirl through me.
I savored the stretch, the burn, the nubs along his length dragging against places I didn’t know existed.
When he was completely inside me, we stilled.
“Alright?” he asked.
“So alright.”
“You feel incredible.”
“So do you.”
He started to move. Slow at first, finding our rhythm. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his ass.
He stroked my breast, one hand still rolling my clit, driving me higher and higher.
