Page 72 of Flashback for the Forward

“Fuck.” Cole grunted, thrusting against my hand. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over before it even begins.”

Challenge accepted.

Upping my pace, I rubbed him hard and fast. “If I remember correctly, you’re just as skilled at getting me off with your fingers and tongue as you are with your cock.”

“Jesus.” The single word was forced out through gritted teeth, realization sinking in that I fully intended to make him come in his pants before letting him take care of me.

His body began to tremble, his control fraying, and his hands roved over me frantically as we made out like a couple of horny teenagers.

Fingers curled around the side of my neck, and a flash of the last time I’d been touched there flashed on the inside of my tightly sealed eyelids—Aiden with murder in his eyes, squeezing with enough force that it felt like he was going to choke the life out of me.

Fear permeated every cell in my body, and a scream tore up my throat. When I shoved at Cole’s chest, he instantly released me, and I scrambled backward until my back slammed into the mirrored wall.

My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, hugging my knees tightly to my chest as I rocked back and forth.

Cole blinked, the lust quickly clearing from his eyes. “Bridget? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head, unable to respond.

Cole took a tentative step forward, freezing when I flinched.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

Tears sprang to my eyes at the tortured look in his.

He blamed himself, but he hadn’t done anything wrong. It was me who was broken. And if today was any indication, I might stay that way forever.

Unable to bear his pitying stare a single second longer, I pushed to my feet and ran from the room, ignoring as calls of my name echoed throughout the house.

Hotfooting it up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me, I shut myself inside my bedroom and locked the door. Then I flung myself onto the bed, brought a pillow to my face, and screamed into it until my throat was raw.

I hated this, hated that I couldn’t be “normal.”

But most of all, I hated that Aiden was nowhere to be seen, and yet he still found a way to ruin my life.

“How have you been sleeping lately?”

My fingers lifted to touch the skin under my eyes, which Dr. Marshall no doubt noticed was smudged purple.

“Not great,” I admitted.

Sneaking into the hallway every night to cuddle with Cole on the air mattress had come to an abrupt halt after the incident in the gym. Without the comfort of his warm body against mine, I lay awake in bed until exhaustion grew too great, and I managed to doze off into a restless slumber that lasted a couple of hours at most.

The days were just as bad as the nights. Cole was back to treating me like I was fragile, like if he breathed near me wrong, I might shatter.

After a couple of steps forward, we’d taken about a million backward.

“Why’s that?” Dr. Marshall questioned.

Stalling, I fidgeted with my hair, gathering the short strands and tying them back with an elastic band.

“Bridget, this only works if you talk to me.”

I heaved a sigh. “I’m struggling with intimacy.”

She nodded in understanding. “That’s to be expected after all you’ve been through. Healing takes time.”

“What if—?” Pulling in a deep breath, I vocalized my greatest fear. “What if I’m too damaged to ever relax enough to have sex again?”