I toss my crust in the box and sit up on my knees, kneeling beside him. He rolls over to face me. The movie starts, but we pay it no mind.
“Who says I’m teasing?”
His eyes drop to my lips. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
Rejection hits me square in the chest. “Oh.” I drop my gaze to the fluffy white bedspread.
“Fuck, Ebba. I didn’t mean it like that. I just … I know you have to feel vulnerable right now after your session.” Thewarmth of his hand settles on my bare knee. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“You’re not taking advantage if I’m offering.”
His eyes scan my face and I wonder if he’s looking for any sign that I might be wavering.
“This has nothing to do with therapy,” I tell him. “And everything to do with how I feel about you.”
His breaths are heavy as he continues to look me over. “What is it exactly that you want?”
“You.”
He shakes his head. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
I bite my lip. “I want to have sex with you.” My pussy clenches at the word.
“With me? Or with anyone?”
I bristle at his insinuation. “With you. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even think about anyone else. I haven’t in years. Not even when I’ve been with?—”
He drops his half-eaten slice in the box, closes it, and shoves it out of the way. The next things I know his big hands are swallowing my face whole and his mouth is on mine. I moan as I sink down into the mattress. His body follows.
He pulls back slightly, somehow already out of breath. “If you want to stop at any time, you just have to tell me.”
“I won’t want to stop.”
He shakes his head. “You gotta promise me, Eb.”
I frown up at him but give him what he’s asking for. “I promise.”
That must be good enough for him, because his mouth is back on mine in an instant. My body is pliable beneath his. I feel like I could sink through the mattress and then the floors beneath us.
Even though I said this had nothing to do with therapy, which is basically true, it does have a little to do with it. Already in two sessions Dr. Maher has helped me realize that for the past few years I’ve been avoiding happiness with a partner. Purposely choosing men I knew weren’t the best for a quick hookup or relationship, because I knew I wouldn’t get attached. All because in the back of my mind I’ve always known there’s only one man for me.
Fighting my feelings for him is futile.
I gave my heart to Fisher a long time ago and I never got it back and I’m not going to. It belongs to him and only him.
Many people never find their soulmate. I was lucky enough to find mine young.
Skimming my hands beneath his shirt, I settle my palms on his stomach. His muscles contract at my touch and he groans. The warmth of his mouth slides down the side of my neck.
“You have no idea how often I’ve dreamed of this.”
“Of fucking me?” I tease, lifting my hips when he tugs on my pajama bottoms.
He pauses, shaking his head. “Of you being mine.”
A small cry comes out of me and when a tear slides out of the corner of my eye, he’s quick to wipe it away. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t cry, baby,” he croons. “I don’t want you to be sad.”