Page 92 of The Unraveling

“Really?” he asks with genuine surprise.

“Yes. I mean, I’ve had great sex, too. My ex was amazing, but that really had more to do with my connection to him, I think. I still was all in my head about it. I don’t know, I just have trouble letting go.”

His eyes stay on mine for an extra moment, and I feel my skin grow warmer under his gaze.

“That’s a shame.”

There’s a silence then, neither of us seeming sure what to say next. The music we have playing on the speakers fills the void, but something is unquestionably building between us.

It’s crazy, because as physically perfect as he is, I’m not all that attracted to him. Do I want to fuck him? Yes. But not in the way I felt compelled to Jordan. Or even to Alistair. With Jordan, it was love. With Alistair, it’s lust.

With Luca, it just seems like fun.

“Should we…” I bite my lip and wedge my foot a little deeper under his thigh.

He touches my bare leg and says, “On one condition.”

“ ’Kay, what?”

“It’s all for you. Nothing for me.”

I squint at him in confusion. “You mean, you don’t want to fuck me?”

“That’s not what I said. I said, nothing for me. Not tonight.”

I consider, and then say, “Okay, your loss.”

I then set down my glass of wine, get up, and run across the apartment.

“Oh, wow,” I hear him say.

Then he comes after me, and I fall, laughing, onto the bed with the velvet duvet.

I was already stripped down to a pair of sweat shorts and a T-shirt. I had washed all my makeup off when we got back, since I ruined it by crying anyway, and didn’t really feel the need to impress Luca.

He has a gentle, firm touch that I feel comforted by as he takes my clothes off. He takes off his shirt, exposing an excessively attractive, lean body. He’s got an intense eight-pack and that sexy V between his hip bones. Male dancers always have good bodies, but for one thing, they’re not always straight, and for another thing, they are rarely this good.

“Jesus Christ, you’re not human,” I say.

“Coming from a goddess like you,” he says, lifting me and scooting me back further onto the pillows.

He doesn’t remove my bra or thong right away. First he comes over me, and kisses me. He has just the right amount of softness in his lips, not so much as to be feminine, but not too little either.

He kisses like he was sent from God, his tongue so correctly gentle, his lips against mine in such a satisfying way. He groans a little at how good it feels, and I can feel his hardness on my leg. I know now, for sure, that his small penis joke at Gravitas was indeed a joke. He’s huge. Of course he is, because he’s a perfect specimen.

Luca kisses my cheek, my forehead, my jaw, my neck, and then in my ear he whispers, “You have to do me a favor.”

“Going back on your one condition already?” I writhe a little under him, overcome with comfortable desire.

“No,” he says. “You must tell me what you like. Don’t be afraid.”

He touches my waist gently and I suck in a breath. “Fuck,” I say.

“You like that?” he asks.

I nod against him.

“Mm,” he says, and then he spreads his palm flat on my waist, then tightens his grip.

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