Page 33 of A Fighting Chance

I can barely hear his words as I drift deeper, as sleep finally overtakes me.

Twelve

Lyla

I wake abruptlyand look around the room. It’s still dark out and there’s no source of light anywhere. I try to adjust and feel Gentry’s arms tighten around me, suddenly remembering what transpired.

Ah, yes. I slept with Gentry.

I slept with Gentry after knowing him for a whopping three days.

Oh my god.

I shift again, this time apparently too much.

“Lyla? Are you okay?” Gentry’s voice is gruff, sleepy.

“I’m okay. Go back to sleep,” I say, cuddling into his embrace.

His hands travel over me, caressing my skin. They begin to move over my sides. His head nestles into my chest, and he brushes light kisses over my skin.

We’re perfectly wrapped up in each other.

Then I feel his hands slide down over my naked bottom and squeeze. This doesn’t help any attempt I’m making to fall back asleep. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. His caresses cause my body to arch into his. He grips me tighter, his hands moving from my bottom to hip and then sliding up to cup my breasts. I stifle a moan but it’s too late.

He heard it. He knows. And he uses it against me.

The tips of his fingers trail gently over my nipple and I feel goosebumps rising all over me.

He parts my legs with his knee, drawing them upward so they have to open wider. I feel myself getting excited. It’s not as though there’s a difference in sleeping with him once or twice after three days. It’s all the same now.

Except now I want to set the pace.

I prop myself up on my elbow and straddle him. I can feel him growing against me. The skin to skin contact makes my body ache deliciously. I reach over to his drawer and fumble for a condom, glad he’s the type of man who’s prepared.

I rip the wrapper open and reach down, taking him in my hands. He stiffens and inhales sharply. After securing the condom in place, I lift myself slightly and tease him, rubbing myself against him, again and again. His body shudders with each of my downward strokes. When his breathing increases, I finally envelop him, listening to him cuss beneath his breath.

His hands reach for me, caressing my chest, steadying me by my stomach, then finding their way to my bottom again. He grips me tightly as we find our rhythm. I rock back and forth, trying to keep my moans quiet. When I come, he slows my body down, pulling me to his chest, holding me there against him, my body still slowly rocking against his. He pushes himself deep inside me a few more times, until I feel his body seize against mine. Knowing he’s spent, I finally hear him exhale.

And then I fall asleep. Just like that. On top of him, still knotted together, Gentry still inside me.

Given how we fell asleep, to say I’m shocked when I wake up several hours later alone in his bed is an understatement. I roll over, patting everywhere, searching blindly for Gentry. But he’s gone. My head shoots up from the pillow at the realization and I look around.

He isn’t anywhere in his room. I look from side to side, a few times, as if doing so will somehow make him appear. But the room is still empty. I sit up in bed, partially confused and partially dumbfounded.

That’s the same thing, isn’t it?

Why?!

What have I done?

I shake my head and draw my knees to my chest, burying my face into my arms and legs.

Clothes.

I should get my clothes.

I need to find them.

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