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He climbs in on his side and gets comfortable. I wait, filled with dread, conflicted, fighting against myself.
Then finally I lift the covers and climb beneath them.
But I wiggle myself right to the edge, as far away from him as I could possibly be.
He doesn't say anything about it.
He doesn't reach out and touch me, even though I am terrified he will.
When I steal a glance over my shoulder, I see his eyes are closed.
I breathe a sigh of relief and rest my head back on the pillow.
The bed is so much more comfortable than the sofa, but I don't trust him.
And I don't trust myself.
I know how my body responded when he kissed me, and I'm scared of what I'll let him do to me.
I don't want that.
Despite how amazing he feels against me.
STEFANO
Ilay in bed with my eyes closed, feeling her moving as she rolls over in the bed. I don't dare look at her.
If I do, I will reach out and touch her. The fact that she is sleeping in the bed next to me is good enough for now. She obeyed without too much resistance.
But, fuck, I can't stop thinking about the kiss.
I can't stop thinking about how fucking incredible her body felt pinned beneath mine.
She hasn't changed. If anything - the last six years have made her more beautiful.
I force myself to keep my eyes closed and listen to her breathing.
Eventually, I manage to drift off to sleep.
But my dreams are filled with images of her. The things we used to do together.
I vividly remember how she tastes, and I wake up in the morning with my cock so hard it's painful.
I roll towards her side of the bed and find she isn't there. She obviously woke up a while ago because her side of the bed is cold.
I sigh in annoyance.
Tossing the blankets off my body I throw my legs over the side of the bed and head towards the shower.
I don't know what to do to get these images of her out of my head.
It's driving me crazy.
She is driving me crazy. In every way.
She is rude, ungrateful, feisty, fucking sexy and she won't stop talking back.
Maybe I need to take her out somewhere.
