73
Ryan
Once we’re home, Evan heads straight to bed, leaving us alone in the living room.
“Do you want a drink?” Christine asks, opening the fridge and bending down to grab something from the bottom shelf.
I go over to her and slide my hands over the small of her back.
“What I want isn’t in the fridge.”
Christine straightens up and closes the fridge door. She turns to me and trails her finger along my chest.
“Oh no?”
“Fuck, no.”
I kiss her neck, her shoulder, then slide my hand down to her breasts.
“You don’t like wasting time, do you?”
“Not where you’re concerned.”
I push her against the counter behind her and sit her on top of it, slipping myself between her legs.
“Evan’s home, you know,” she points out.
I smile at her. “We can fix that.”
I take her in my arms and wrap her legs around my waist, carrying her upstairs and into her room. I close the door behind us, taking a few steps towards the bed and laying her out, before throwing myself onto her like a hungry wolf.
Christine stops me, taking my face in her hands. “Not like this, Ryan. Not this time.”
I look at her, confused.
“I want to make love to you. I want to feel your hands everywhere, your mouth… I want to feel you. Really.”
I pull away from her and roll away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
She smiles at me, tenderly.
“What did they do to you?” she asks, innocently.
I shake my head.
“Ryan…”
“I don’t know if I can change. I like being with you, but this…”
“I like it, too.”
“I’m scared that if we do anything more, I’ll be crushed again.”
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s stopping you.”
