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It was too fucking much and I don’t think I can behave myself if I stick around.
Now I’m making her coffee and scrambling her a couple eggs, and she’s acting like I’m invisible or something, all because she got off to the sound of my voice.
We’re both obsessing and it’s not fucking healthy.
“A business trip? Already?” She can’t even hide her disappointment. I bet she wants me to stay here and talk dirty to her each and every night, always safely on the other side of that invisible line.
But I don’t want safe.
I want to tear her clothes off, even right now, and feast on her beautiful skin.
“Only for a day or two,” I tell her. “I’ll be back soon. In the meantime, I’ll leave my black card behind and you can go nuts on this place. Have your friends over too and show them around.”
“Yeah, sure, I can decorate and throw a kegger.”
“Just don’t get in trouble.” I slide the plate of eggs and the mug of coffee in front of her, and she flinches slightly when my hand grazes across her upper arm.
“Right, sure, I won’t,” she says and the awkward tension feels like it might explode until I finally pull myself away, take a shower, throw some things in a bag, and get the fuck out of there.
If I stay for a single second longer, I’m going to do something I won’t be able to take back.
I’m not the type to let shit fester. Ignoring an awkward subject drives me fucking crazy—I’d rather put it all out in the open and talk about things like grown-ass adults.
Except in this situation.
If I talk to her about what happened the night before, I’m going to want to do it again. And again. And again. And then I won’t besatisfied with words anymore. I’ll need her lips wrapped around the tip of my cock sucking me nice and hard.
But I need to stop before I fuck up and hurt her more than necessary.
Because that’s what’s going to happen in the end: I’mgoingto hurt her.
I’ve thought about it a million different times and looked at it from every angle, and I don’t know how I could possibly give Grandpop something to hurt her family without hurtingher. It just doesn’t work out, and unless I’m ready to give up the one thing I’ve always wanted my whole life, I need to start being realistic with myself.
There’s no business trip. Nothing pressing, at least. My family has contacts in Chicago and I figure it’s a good opportunity to go visit my old friend Evander, another member of the Atlas Organization, a student club we founded and ran together back in our college days alongside our other best friends.
This trip is my way of cooling off. This trip is a kindness—to both of us.
On the flight over, at the airport when I land, in the cab ride to the beautiful hotel I’m staying in, every second of every hour, I’m thinking about her. I’m thinking about that night.
I was ready to let myself get ripped to pieces by sharks if it meant having a taste of her.
And the only thing that held me back was the look in her eye when she asked me not to hurt her.
It still fucking kills me. She was so sincere, so afraid, and I couldn’t even give her the one thing she really wanted. I thoughtabout lying, thought about saying everything I knew she wanted to hear, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Instead, I promised to protect her.
But who’s going to protect her from me?
That’s why I didn’t cross the line and that’s why I got the fuck out of there.
I want her so badly it’s like an ache in my bones.
But sleeping with her is a step too far.
She’s a virgin. A fuckingvirgin. I haven’t been a virgin since my grandpop bought a high-class escort when I turned sixteen and told me toget it out of the way.
No wonder I’m so screwed up.
