Page 16 of In the Grey of Dawn

“I'm so close,” she moans, and I press my palm firmly against her. Her breath stilts as I put more pressure on her clit, my fingers going even deeper inside her. I can feel the orgasm pulsing through her body as her walls tighten. My cock throbbing for release but remaining firmly in my pants.

“Fuck, baby. You needed that didn’t you?” I murmur into the crook of her neck, as she whimpers, easing my soaked fingers from inside her. Bringing them up to my mouth I lick and suck them until they’re clean, closing my eyes as I savour the taste of her.

“Thank you ... that was ... I needed that more than you know,” she says stepping into me. Going up on her tiptoes, she leans into me, kissing and tasting herself on my lips.

“Charlie,” I mumble into her mouth trying to get her attention. “Charlie, we shouldn't.”

I feel her hands move to my belt buckle and it takes everything in me to take her shoulders and ease her away from me.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come onto you like that. This is my fault. I've given you the wrong impression of what I want,” I say a little exacerbated, rubbing my hand across my chest.

Looking down, I can see her scowling at me and it's absolutely deserved. One minute I'm telling her we should be friends and the next I'm shoving my hand down her pants and licking the sweetest pussy cream off my fingers.

“I fucked up. I'm telling you one thing and doing another. It's extremely hard for me to be around you and not want to rip your clothes off, so I can fuck youanywhereandeverywhereI want. I know this makes no sense, but you've triggered something in me I thought was gone. If I claim you as mine then it could send me spiralling.”

I don't even know how to say what I want to say to her. I'm not ready to tell her about my past but at the same time, I don't know how to navigate this. I want her but I can't allow myself to have her, so I'm trying to do the right thing even though every part of me is screaming that it's wrong.

“I'm really trying to give you what you need Porter but this is an unusual position for me too. I like you … I think Ilike you, like you. There’s something between us that I’ve not felt before but I don't do relationships so I’m trying to navigate my feelings too. I don't want you toclaimme, at least not yet anyway but this is also confusing and maybe not the best situation for either of us.”

I can see she's trying to be level headed with me. But it also feels like she's ending the relationship we never started and the one I said I didn't want. So why do I feel like my chest is going to implode?

“This isn't the right time for both of us, so we agree to just stay friends? I still want to hang out with you. It's nice coming into the bustle of the bar at the end of the day but I also don't want to keep hoping for something you're not ready to give me. I'll maybe take your advice and go on some dates and if …whenyou're in a place to give me a little bit more then we can explore that.”

“Okay,” I say, looking to the floor as everything she says feels like a knife to my heart, and what really drives it home is that she's only giving me what I asked of her.

Can I actually stand by when she dates other people? Knowing that it could be me laughing with her, holding her … loving her. One thing is for certain, if I ever meet the cunt she's dating and he puts a foot out of line, I'll kill him.

Chapter 11 - Charlie

“I’m giving up. I don't know what to do. Should I just accidentally fall over and present myself to him?” I sigh, exacerbated over trying to get a read on him. Lying on the floor with all of Mila's books stacked around me, I'm surrounded by all of the romance a gal could ever ask for and I couldn't be more miserable.

“I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection but for the first time, I’m not sure that I'm willing to settle for it. I want him … why doesn't he want me?” I groan, hoping some divine entity will guide me.

“If he thinks I’m going to wait around forever then he's got another thing coming. I’m a catch, Mila, a catch!” Forcing all of the confidence I have into that statement. Trying to convince myself that I won't wait for any man, but my biggest problem is that I don't think Porterisjust any man.

And that terrifies me.

Half of the curtains are closed and despite Mila having a better day, she's still right in the thick of it. At almost fifteen weeks, she is walking that fine line ofis it bloating or is it the bump? Our goal is for her to have a shower each day. That's the only thing I ask of her. It can be at any time while I'm there andit's one of those things that you hate to do but you feel so much better once it's done.

We've also started to do a daily bump check which allows me to get her out of bed and hopefully motivate her to shower, independent of me nagging. I can check her weight at the same time but also gives us a little moment to fangirl over that tiny bean growing inside her.

I get Dante to have a bath with her once a week so I can swap out the dirty sheets on her bed for clean ones and it also gives them a littlecouple timetogether. So far it's worked out well, other than when Mila had that smell aversion period and he smelt like old lady soap to her. She made him stand in the shower to watch her seeing as he insisted on being in the room still.

Mila reaches out to take Attila’s framed snout print that sits on her bedside table. I've noticed she's been keeping it close since she's been pregnant. Now that she can no longer go and visit the tree where he’s buried, she holds onto his snout print when she’s thinking of him.

“If I told you something about Porter can you promise not to tell anyone?” Mila says, her worn voice getting rougher each day. Perking up, I crawl on the floor to the edge of the bed where she's lying and lean into her.

“What do you mean you know something about Porter that I don't know?” I say, lowering my voice in case Dante is creeping outside waiting for me to let him in the room.

“I promised I wouldn't tell,” she says, her eyes darting to the closed bedroom door.

“Mila, I’m your best friend and am currently looking after you. I'm not above threats. Tell me!” I whisper shout at her, trying to establish dominance.

Smiling at me, she gives a sly wink and says, “Ooooh, threats. Tell me more.”

“Ugh, I knew that wouldn't work. How about I don't butter your toast to the edges? Or what if I only get you thin socks to wear when your feet are cold and not the big thick ones you like?”

Gasping, her smile relaxes a little as her energy wanes.

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