Page 41 of Getting It Twisted

For once, I’m not even that horny. I don’t want sex. I just . . . I just want him to hold me. Will he do it on his own? The kind of men with whom I usually share a bed would consider it their God-given right to touch me. But if I have to ask for it, I . . . I don’t know if I can. I open my mouth, and my voice is hinged on a thin string, beyond my control.

“Daniel,” I croak.

“Yeah?” His breath puffs against the back of my neck.

“Could you just . . . hold me? I won’t try anything. I promise.”

As soon as I’ve said it, my chest feels tight enough to burst. What if he says no? What if he—

There’s a grunt. Then he wraps an arm around me and slots his body against mine.

The warmth of him against my back is the best thing I’ve felt since he pinned me down and kissed me breathless. His hand curls over mine, and his thumb strokes my own. Bit by bit, I relax into the embrace. The knots in my muscles unwind, and some of the cold in me melts away.

I’ve never really . . . felt like this. Certainly not with any of the hookups I met on the road. Whenevertheywanted to cuddle me after sex, I always felt like a prisoner in their arms. Uncomfortable and clammy. Wrung out like a rag. Impatient. I wanted out and off to the next thing.

But not with Daniel. With him, I want to stay right here. With him, even the horrors of my childhood home can’t faze me.

Chapter 8

Daniel

When I wake up,a warm body is lined up against mine, every inch of skin pressed as close as it can get.

The heat alone is overwhelming. I push the bedcover off our bodies, and with the shift in position, I realize how hard I am. The length of my cock presses against Nathan’s ass, and he’s . . .moving. Pushing against me. Slowly wiggling his hips, all indulgent like a cat.

I try to disentangle the arm I’ve got slung over his torso, but he makes a noise of protest and grabs onto my wrist.

“What did you say last night?” I grunt into his ear.

“Mm?” He’s moving, moving, and my cock swells to full hardness. “Don’t remember.”

I should stop this. I should yank my arm away from him by force and get away from his soft, delicious heat. I should tell him off, for real this time.

“Come on,” he gasps. His fingers slide under the hem of my boxers, nails digging into my flesh, keeping me lined up against him. “Please.”

“Quit it,” I grit out. In one swift motion, I roll us over until he’s on his stomach, with me on top of his back. The bed creaks, bouncing with our combined weight.

“Yeah,” he groans, voice muffled into the pillow. “Do it.” He reaches down, scrambling to pull at his underwear.

I grab his arms and pin them to the bed. “Slow down.”

“What is there to be slow about? Fuck me.”

I grab a handful of his hair and hiss into his ear, “Are you this shameless about it? This desperate?”

“Yeah,” he gasps. “We’ll never talk about it again if that’s what you want. I’ll be just a hole for you. I don’t care.”

He wants me to treat him like nothing but a hole? Fine. I can do that. Right now, Iwantto do that, and he deserves it. For hurting me. For leaving me. For frustrating me to the ends of the earth.

I push my boxers down and pull out my aching cock, letting the heavy length of it press against the half-exposed mounds of his ass. If I’m going to do this, I won’t make it some frantic fuck fest. I’ll take my time with him, make him come apart in my arms. Make him cry maybe. He deserves that too.

He gazes at me from the side with half-lidded eyes. His breath comes out in staggered little pants, and with each moment of delay, he grows more and more tense.

“Just use spit.”

“We need lube. And a condom.” Someone needs to be the responsible one here, and it sure as hell won’t be him.

“Fine. My backpack. In my room. Hurry up.”

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