Page 34 of Rejected Plus-Size Mate

It’s not like he just slept in. The poor guy hasn’t slept properly for so long, no one could blame him for passing out like that.

I get up to head to the kitchen and make some coffee, and while my hands go through the familiar motions, a whole bunch of uncomfortable emotions come bubbling up inside me.

I invited him into bed with me. I can’t just kick him out now!

My hands hover over the cups as my stomach twists with anxiety. I want to be totally cool with sleeping next to Kyle—hugging him, snuggling with him—but the nervousness singing through me right now can’t be ignored.

I’m still scared. If I give myself to him again, I’m still scared I’ll be hurt just like before.

The answer seems simple. Sleep next to each other, and don’t have sex. I laugh softly as I finish making the coffee. Kyle might be capable of that, but I’m not. Now that I’m feeling rested and fresh, the idea of wrapping my body around his has an entirely different feel than last night.

For the rest of the day, we hang out and do very little. I deliberately stay away from any triggering topics and put on funny movies to watch. He doesn’t mention anything from thenight before, and neither do I. When it’s time to go to bed, he goes back to the couch without a word.

Even though I was scared to share the bed with him, I end up feeling lonely and sad. I consider going out to get him, but that idea fills me with anxiety. I start to feel too hot, even though the night is cold.

That night, Kyle does not have a nightmare, and I am the one who tosses and turns.

Over the next few days, we slip back into our work routine. The conversation between us comes much easier, and every day that goes by without a nightmare, Kyle looks more and more relaxed.

By the end of the week, there seems to be no tension between us at all.

Well. No anger, anyway.

While Kyle flips pancakes by the stove, I make the coffee just a couple of steps away. My eyes keep slipping over to look at him, admiring his long, muscular legs and toned ass in his tight jeans. He’s wearing a loose collared shirt that is only half tucked in, and the strip of skin showing at the waistband seems to be an open invitation to my hand.

“Leslie?”

“Yes!” I answer, coming back to reality.

“I had to say your name more than once. Are you okay?”

“Yes, fine. Sorry. Just thinking.”

Thinking about your body pressed against mine, your hands all over me, your hot lips, and how good it feels when you slide your cock slowly into me—

“Leslie?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’m okay.”

Kyle gives me a sideways look and puts the maple syrup down in front of me. “I’ll just let you handle your own syrup, then. Is the coffee ready?”

“Sure is,” I say, bringing the two cups to the table. I sit down and stare hard at my plate so I don’t get distracted again.

“Good coffee,” he mutters, and I can’t help looking up at him. Seeing his easy, relaxed expression brings a smile to my face. Even his eyes look clear, as if some of the devils lurking in his soul have been exorcised.

“No nightmares?” I ask gently. He shakes his head.

“I’ll admit, some of my dreams have been a little weird, but nothing too scary.”

“Good,” I whisper, taking his hand and squeezing it.

When we head out to work, I let Kyle drive me, as I have all week. It’s not just to comfort him so he can keep an eye on me and reassure himself that I’m safe. I’m starting to genuinely enjoy spending every moment with him.

After a long day of work, I meet Kyle by the sporting goods store, and he drives me home. Kyle goes to start dinner, but I’m feeling restless, like I need to run.

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