Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The control I’ve been clinging to shifts from resistance to acceptance. She’s here in my arms, she’s not pushing me away, and I don’t have the power to stop us either. Her fingers slide into my hair, and she presses her lips to mine.
Without question, I open for her, letting her set the pace. Her ass cheeks are gripped in my palms, her pussy is grinding on my cock, and even through the layers of clothing between us, I can feel her heat.
Her lips pressed to mine affect me unlike anything else ever has. Everything I’ve been holding back explodes at once. The desire, the fear, the longing, and most of all the need I have for her. It’s all overwhelming in the best way.
She’s everything.
Every breath we share is ragged. Every heartbeat feels like a powerful kick inside my chest. I allow myself to get lost in her. The concept of time disappears. There’s nothing but the two of us and this shared passion we’ve found ourselves indulging in.
This kiss isn’t gentle, but it’s not rough and careless either. Every brush of our lips, every stroke of our tongues, is deliberate. We’re learning each other with every moment that passes.
When I finally pull back, coming up for air, she presses her forehead against mine. We’re both struggling to catch our breath. Slowly, I open my eyes in time to watch her lift her head, and her eyes flutter open.
“This changes things,” I finally say, my voice raspy with my desire for her.
“She’s going to hate me.”
I shake my head. “No, she won’t.” She might hate me, though, and I don’t want to lose my daughter, not when I just got her back, but there’s a selfish side of me that doesn’t want to lose Amanda either. I’ve never felt this way before. Never been consumed with this overwhelming need for a woman to the point that nothing else matters.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, because that’s the best I’ve got.
“I should go.”
“Stay. Just a little longer.”
She hesitates before she nods. I kiss her lips softly before lowering her to the floor, taking her hand in mine, and leading her back downstairs. Guiding her to the couch, I make sure to turn on the receiver to the baby monitor, then take a seat next to her, pulling her onto my lap.
“I just want to hold you.” Her body relaxes into mine, and that’s how we spend the next hour. I hold her, stealing kisses like a teenager with his first crush.
“As bad as I hate to say this, it’s getting late. I know I won’t be able to convince you to stay, and I don’t want the two of you out on the roads this late, let alone later.”
“We’ll be fine,” she assures me. She bites down on her bottom lip, and I free it with my thumb.
“Whatever it is, you can say it.”
“I don’t want to tell her.”
I don’t need to ask who her is. I know she’s talking about Bellamy. “This is complicated, but I don’t want to hide you. I want you. I want more nights like tonight.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I can’t lose her, and I know how hard you worked to have Bellamy back in your life.”
My heart sinks, but I know she’s right. This is more than a risky play. This is risking my relationship with my daughter and a lifetime of friendship. There’s too much at stake. That doesn’t make the longing fade, but it makes the choice clear.
I take a deep breath, forcing a smile I don’t feel. “You’re right,” I say quietly. “We can’t… We shouldn’t.”
The tension between us hangs for a moment longer, thick and unspoken. Then, slowly, I bring her lips to mine, kissing her slowly, hoping this kiss says what my words can’t. That I hate this, that I still want her, and that I probably always will.
These past couple of months, she’s become something more, something I’m too afraid to name. And fuck me, this hurts, knowing that I have to let her go. The warmth of her in my arms, the pull of desire sparking between us, it’s all still there, but it belongs to another life. One we can’t have.
Sometimes life isn’t about getting what you want. It’s about knowing what you have to let go. And tonight, letting go is the only thing that makes sense.
Pulling out of the kiss, she slides off my lap and offers me her hand. Together, we make our way back upstairs, and I pick up a peacefully sleeping Mia and carry her down to the car. Once they’re both buckled in, I lean my head in through the window. “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”
“Okay,” she says, sadness in her voice.