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I'd rather think all my sexy thoughts and lose.
"Is it really that different?" I take his other hand and bring it to the hem of my crop top. I'm not playing defense here. I'm on offense. "If you're committed to someone, you want the best for them, you want things fair for them. Is that so different than love?"
"Maybe not." He brings both hands to my top. Slowly, he rolls the fabric over my chest. "Maybe, at the end of the day, enough commitment and care add up to love. Maybe I'm waiting for some feeling that doesn't exist. Some passion I've only heardin love songs." He rolls the shirt another inch up my chest. Another. "It's possible my expectations are too high."
I groan as he rolls the fabric to my collarbones, revealing my breasts.
He stays there for a moment, not touching me, just leaving me on display to anyone who can see.
I don't think anyone can see. They'd need a telescope. Or at least great distance vision and a tendency to stare out of a dark bedroom.
The possibility still makes my sex clench.
"But I don't think so," he says. "Women always saw it. I was lacking something they found with other men."
It's hard to imagine him lacking anything. "What was that?"
"If I'm honest with myself—" Finally, he cups my breasts with his palms. He does it gently. So I barely feel it. Then, just firm enough, I know he has me.
"We're talking about something?" My eyes flutter closed as he runs his thumb over my nipple.
"I'm not playing fair, I know." He teases me with his thumb again and again. He speaks with that same calm, even tone, as if he's kneading dough to make pizza, not toying with my nipples. "I never promised to play fair."
Right. And I'm on offense here. Not defense. But I want to hear this first.
I want—
Fuck, that feels good.
My eyes flutter closed as he draws another circle around my nipple.
He teases me slowly. With perfect strokes.
For a moment, I surrender to the bliss of it. I let warmth spread up to my shoulders and down to my stomach, then to my pelvis, and down my arms and legs, all the way to my fingers and toes.
My entire body hums with desire.
It's intoxicating. And stabilizing somehow, too. I know how to live in this feeling. How to savor it.
I find enough wit to reply. "If you're honest with yourself? What happened with your relationships then?" This isn't the right conversation for this game, but I don't care. I want to know his heart as much as I want his body.
Even though his hard cock is pressed against my ass, he keeps that same calm, even tone. He doesn't give away a shred of desire in his voice. "I never let myself be vulnerable with anyone. Not romantically. I tried to show up and do all the things a boyfriend did. I thought the feelings would come. But they didn't. Deep down, I picked women I wouldn't fall for. I told myself they made sense on paper, and they did, but it was more than that. There was always a wall between us. A wall I wanted to keep there." He brings his lips to my neck. "But I don't want that with you. And that terrifies me."
"Is this part of the game?" I breath.
"Yes, but it's true."
"That's a dirty play." It overwhelms me, this desire to claim his heart the way I'm claiming his body. To share these other parts of myself and take these other parts of him.
"I told you." He scrapes his teeth over my neck. "I don't play fair."
Fuck. I need to touch him. And I want to surrender to this and feel every ounce of it forever.
He doesn't want a wall with me.
I don't want a wall with him.
We're both a mess. Ready to fall in love the second we know it won't work out.
