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Her eyes fill with pity. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Yeah, that’s the other thing I fucking don’t want.” I turn to leave the area behind the bar, but she wraps her arms around me, practically climbing on my back.
“Wait. Stop. I’m just so sorry that you’ve had to go through that. Especially as a young kid. Life isn’t fair.”
I cover her hands with mine because unlike the few other times I’ve discussed this with someone, I don’t want to run away. Isn’t that the problem with her? I always want to be with her. This infatuation stage of our relationship isn’t losing momentum, quite the opposite, and it makes me feel out of control in my life. A feeling I don’t do well with.
“Please don’t ever tell anyone,” I say in a soft voice as if there are people around.
“Never. I would never.” When I circle around, she rises on her tiptoes, grabbing my face and staring in my eyes. “I won’t ever tell anyone. I promise.”
“Thanks.”
She places her mouth on mine, and I lick the seam of her lips. We don’t rush our kiss, our hands running over the layers of our clothes as if we’re naked. God, she’s ruining me, and I’m just letting her do it, but the last thing I want to do is walk away from this.
I really hope Ruby doesn’t have cameras.
Per usual, slow only lasts so long before the tension rises to a point that we’re desperate to come together. Backing her up to the bar, I continue to kiss her, my hands manipulating the buttons on her blouse until I spread it open to reveal her bra-covered tits.
“I want to fuck these so bad,” I say, taking the weight of them in my palms.
“Do it.” She’s practically panting already.
“Not now. I need to be inside you.”
Her fingers run up and under the hem of my sweatshirt, slowly torturing me until her warm palms run along my back. “I love to feel your skin under my hands.”
It’s something I’ve noticed. Every time we’re together, her hands find their way up along my chest or back. I don’t mind one bit.
She rests her chin on my chest and stares up at me with those big caramel eyes of hers. The look on her face makes me think she might be ready to tell me whatever it is she’s been holding back. But instead, she pushes up my sweatshirt and places kisses over my heart and around my chest.
Jesus, I think now she feels sorry for me.
Fuck. I just want to forget that I shared my most vulnerable admission with her.
I lower my body, swiping an arm around her middle and hoisting her up, taking her to the private room to fuck her on the table. Every time I’m in here with the guys from now on, this is what I’ll be picturing.
I push through the door and drop her on the table.
“Condom?” she asks.
I dig into my pocket and hold up the one I had with me when I went down to meet her because I planned on taking her as soon as she entered my condo.
She pushes at my chest, and I stumble backward. Leaning back on her hands, her eyes peruse my body from head to toe and back up. “I want to see you strip.”
I chuckle and hold the hem of my sweatshirt, lifting it up my chest. “Don’t jump me.”
She giggles, twirling her finger. “Keep going.”
I strip my sweatshirt off, but don’t continue. “How about I take an item off and then you take an item off?”
Without a word, she slides her arms out of the blouse, hanging it off her finger and letting it drop to the floor. “Your turn.”
I shake my head. I don’t have a lot of clothes left. I toe out of my slides.
“Shoes don’t count.”
“Well then.” I pull down my sweatpants and step out of them, leaving me in?—
