Page 34 of Rectify

“Yeah, you did.” The words come out low and breathless. The acknowledgement tightens my chest, while the raspy sound of her voice makes its way down to my dick.

She repeatedly flicks her gaze from my eyes to my mouth while licking her own. It's the perfect invitation to kiss her. God, how I want to. I risk her rejection and lift my thumb to her lips, mirroring her own movements.

Just one peck. I could turn her hesitation into heat in seconds, and expel every single bit of tension between us with just one swipe of my tongue. But then I’ll lose her. Whatever scrap of attention and pity she’s throwing my way tonight will disappear, and I need to do everything in my power tonotmake that happen.

As if my thoughts materialise between us, she drops her hands and steps back. I miss her touch instantly. Her throat bobs up and down as she swallows her unnecessary embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

Her voice sounds as pained as my insides feel. The mixture of lust and loss, heady and suffocating.

“Me too.” She doesn't miss the double entendre.

As if she feels it too, she slips her hand into mine. “Let’s go inside.”

I follow her past the threshold, tenderness and understanding between us.

Cautiously I step into her space, aware of how consequential this moment is for both of us.

Open plan living, the main areas in her house seamlessly blend into one another. Her furniture is modern, couches and dining table chairs all covered in light grey basketweave fabric, and bold coloured statement pieces scattered throughout. Her decor is minimalistic, but the house feels very much lived in.

Every corner exudes love, and family. Her huge heart evident in every photo that lines the walls. A collage of all the years gone by. It’s a stark contrast to where I’m living now with Lily. A reminder I don’t want to have to stay in that cold, lifeless house any longer than we have to.

“Can I?” I ask pointing to the pictures.

“Be my guest.”

I release my hand from hers and feel her eyes follow me as I leave her side. I don’t miss a single photo, taking my time perusing every detail.

Captivated by Sasha’s transition from the girl I knew, to the beautiful woman behind me. I feel like a voyeur, on the outside, looking in on a life so removed from mine.

A mixture of milestones, candid moments, and somewhat tributes to people that aren’t Sasha and her daughter; I tuck away my own assumptions about Sasha’s life thus far.

Peeling my eyes away from the photos, I turn to a very fidgety Sasha. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Dakota.”

I nod and turn back to the photos.

I don’t ask about the father, or how old she is. It’s obvious she’s the product of a Michael twin, and as petty as it seems, irks me enough to see their faces dispersed among all the family photos.

But the growing question is where is he now? Why isn’t he taking care of his family? Warming her bed at night? There’s no way in hell I would leave Sasha alone with another man if she was mine.

“Why are you here, Jay?” The closeness of her voice gives away her proximity. She’s behind me, staring at me with trepidation I wish she didn’t have every right to feel.

I look back and forth between her and the display of her life behind me. She has a picture perfect life that I don’t need to ruin with memories of a time that’s so far beyond where she is now. No matter how much I want her absolution.

So, I lie. I say the words that I know will eradicate any progress I may have made since I arrived at her doorstep. “I was hoping we could distract each other. Like old times.”

She narrows her eyes at me, the shock I expected nowhere to be found. “I thought you said you wanted to talk?”

“There’s more than one way to do that.” I trail my fingers down the curve of her cheek.

“Jay. I can’t.” With the way she shivers under my touch, I call bullshit. I lower my mouth to her ear. “Not yet, but soon.”

She shrugs me off and steps back. There’s no scowl or look of disgust. Instead her teeth dig into her bottom lip, while her eyes trace the length of my body. Her gaze returns to mine, as she shakes her head. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

The retort comes out before I can stop it. “Oh, Pretty Girl, I’ve heard that one before.” I know she can give as good as she gets and I’ve immediately transformed into Jay the horny, smart-mouthed teenager. “If I remember, it only took a few orgasms with my fingers to sway you.”

She spins on her heels, and heads to the kitchen, but not before I catch the flush of heat creep up her neck and settle on her cheeks.

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