Page 186 of The Liar's Reckoning

I might be a little depressed. Maybe that’s why all the fight has left me.

“Did you find a new apartment?” Graham asks when he sees the boxes in the kitchen.

“I’m narrowing it down,” I say without elaborating.

“Will you be by yourself, or…”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” I say, figuring that’s what he’s getting at.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Right.” I gesture at the couch. “Have a seat. I’m just gonna change out of this.”

I take a quick shower and put on clean clothes, not expecting him to join, nor am I disappointed when he doesn’t. The vibe is different this time.

I only have the one couch, so I join him on it, giving him abrief glance before facing forward. After a minute of sitting in silence, his hand moves, finding mine and holding it. I sigh at the touch, closing my eyes. What he said last time resurfaces.I’ll always love you the best I can.

This way isn’t so bad. It’s an improvement, anyway. I guess I don’t hate it.

Holding his hand warms my entire arm, and the heat works its way to my chest. I try to find some comfort in it but start to get choked up. I take a shaky breath and sigh it out, dreading how it’s going to feel to say what I’m about to say. “I’ve been feeling really alone.” My voice cracks like I expected it would. A tear escapes, and I sniff to keep snot from becoming an issue.

“I get that,” he says.

Ben probably would have said something like he was lonely, too, and that’s one of the things I always loved about being with Graham. He never tried to make my feelings about him or one up me somehow. That and everything I’ve missed about him sinks in all at once.

It hurts so fucking bad that I realize there was never any amount of physical pain I could inflict on him that would even come close. I used to think we loved each other equally, but it looks like I was in it way deeper than he was. Deeper than I even knew. That should probably make me feel stupid, but it only makes me sadder.

Because when the fuck will I learn?

“I hate seeing you cry,” he whispers.

It’s worse being the one who can’t stop. “I miss you.”

“Hey,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’m right here.”

“You’re not. I wish you were, but you’re not.”

“Baby, look at me.”

I don’t want to. I can’t.

“Silas.”

I feel his other hand on my cheek, hear the rustle of his movement, and freeze when he swipes a few tears off my face. He’sturning my head, and the next thing I know, his mouth is on mine. Again, it’s not like last time. It’s barely a kiss. It feels more like an alignment. Brows, noses, lips, chins…the way we fit together.

“Do you want me here?” he asks.

“Yes.” I always want him. I’ve never stopped. Every time I’ve pushed him away, I wanted him to fight back. But it’s never going to be enough. What I want from him, he can’t give me. No—not can’t.Won’t.

But I don’t want to think about that. I want to feel better, even if it’s temporary and meaningless. His kiss is soft at first, and still I’m swept away. I melt into him, allowing him to hold me close and possess my mouth. Instead of taking, I give. I give up whatever else I have to offer. He has all the important parts of me already. Why not serve up what’s left? It’s a complete and total surrender. We fought. He won.

“More,” I beg him after so many slow, respectful kisses.

His thumb sweeps my cheekbone again. “Anything.”

We re-angle our mouths, and my cock rises at the bolder lash of his tongue. He inhales me, creating a strong suction, dissolving all my will to do anything but this. Our bodies reorient, hands moving naturally to a waist, a thigh, a hip until our shoulders rest on the back of the couch, chests pressed together, my leg pulled over his hips, hard cock pressed against his steel cage.

I don’t complain. It feels good. It’s not his erection, which is bigger and warmer, but it’s hard and gives me the friction my own dick craves. I make out with him, my need fervent and bright. He feeds me his tongue and his guttural groans, squeezing and releasing my ass cheek in time with my grinds against him.

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