Page 59 of Theta

“Yeah, I really do. Down to my bones. I'm not gonna sit here and pretend it's not kind of hard to listen to you talk about sex with other people, but it's a reality of life, and it’s something I understand and something I can handle. It's not like you're sitting there telling me how great your exes are."

I snort. "God, no." I nibble on his earlobe. "Please trust me when I tell you that you, Killian Harris, outshine everyone I've ever dated or slept with, in every department,” I whisper, then, directly into his ear. "No one has ever made me feel as good as you just did. And that is the god's honest truth."

"Story," he murmurs. “You don't have to—"

I cup his cheek and move my mouth to his other ear, nibble the shell, his earlobe. "You have the best cock by far." I cup him over his zipper.

He covers my hand, moves it. "Fucking hell, Story."

"I just need you to know I'm being totally honest." I kiss him, quickly, gently. "I'm not feeding you lines or anything, Killian. I spent years wanting and dreaming and fantasizing about you and years more trying to forget you and how I felt about you. And the reality of you is so much more, so much better than anything I ever came up with in my head.”

He hangs his head, shrugs one shoulder. "I dunno how to respond to that."

I pull his face against my chest and kiss the top of his head. "You don't need to. As long as you believe me."

"I do."

I let him sit upright and swallow hard. "You ready for what Everett said?"

"No."

"Me neither." I rub my face with both hands. "I was stressed about finals. I wanted—I needed to not think about A-and-P and chemical interactions and titration schedules and all that. I wanted my boyfriend to comfort me. To take my mind off things. And I knew he was just as stressed, and I figured it would be good for him, too. So I got rid of my roommate and did a little spaghetti dinner, complete with a stupid candle and everything. I wore some sexy lingerie. I texted him and told him I needed his help studying, and can you please come over.”

"Lucky fucking bastard," Killian murmurs. "You in lingerie?"

I grin at him. "I have some pieces I could wear for you."

"Please Jesus, yes."

I laugh at the intense sincerity in his voice. "I know white briefs and a sports bra isn't exactly the height of sensuality. But I wasn't expecting this, y'know?"

"If I was to get to see you in some sexy lingerie, Story, I legit may not survive. The rush of blood to my cock very well might just stop my heart."

"I hope not,” I laugh. “I need your cock hard and your heart beating."

He pinches my chin, tugs my lower lip down, leans in and kisses me. "Finish the story, Story."

"I was so stressed out, so…needy, I guess. Out of control? I dunno. I was out of my mind a little. Not thinking. Any filter I may have had was gone. I went a little crazy. As soon as he walked in, I jumped his bones. He was like hell yeah, at first."

"At first," Killy says under his breath, with vicious derision. "Fucking loser."

I giggle softly, and then sober as I finish the story. "I…" Memory is brutally fresh and painfully vivid. "Fuck." It hurts before I've even said anything.

"Story—"

I squeeze his hand, press his palm to my face. Whisper the rest. "I just have to tell it, and I’m sorry in advance."

"No apology necessary. I get it, and I can deal. I'm here. I'm listening."

"He walked in, saw the stupid card table and the bed sheet I used for a tablecloth, and the candles. It meant a lot to him, I could tell. I doubt anyone had ever done anything like that for him."

"Guys don't tend to get big gestures like that very often."

"Everett in particular. He came from a very broken and violent home, and I don’t think too many girls ever even tried to see the real him. Which, honestly, is probably a big part of what led him to being the way he is, and how he reacted. That's an explanation, not an excuse. Anyway. I grabbed him and kissed him, and…yeah. You know how it goes. What food, right?"

"I can imagine, yes," he says, carefully.

"I…" I squeeze my eyes shut. "Shit, this is hard. I pushed him backward toward my bed. When we were a couple of feet away, I shoved him, hard. Not, like, violently, just…aggressively. Big, big, big mistake. I don't know if it triggered something from his childhood as an abuse victim or what, but he snapped. He stood up and grabbed my wrists. And yeah, in that moment, I was afraid of him. He was a violent guy, but only with other guys. Never with me and never with any female. I watched him break a guy’s face at a bar because the guy got physical with his girlfriend in a way Ev didn't like. But in that moment, I admit I was a little scared. He didn't hurt me. Just grabbed my wrists and walked me backward out of his space. Turned around and just stood there for a minute like he was trying to control himself."