Page 77 of Devilry

Preening under his compliment, I hold his eyes, unable to look away. Emotions are building between us, too fast to stop them. Everything I feel, I see reflected on his sated face.

Time stops.

My heart does too.

* * *

Dried and dressed,I feel overwhelmingly raw and exposed. We’re laying down on the couch, Cole protectively holding me, as if he knows I need it, as if he can feel me slowly falling apart. All the talking, and the orgasms, are hitting me hard, making me feel tender and breakable.

Being as this isn’t exactly Cole’s live-in house just yet, there is a little bit of uncertainty that follows us around as we trudge through the aftermath of what we just shared.

“I think I’m going to get going,” I announce.

“I don’t want to push you,” he states, “but I can’t let you walk out of here if you’re not okay.”

I squeeze his arms around me tighter. “I am, or at least I know I will be. It all just feels like a little too much right now.”

“I don’t want you doing things you’re not comfortable with.”

“No. It’s not that,” I assure him. “It’s the talking. The letting someone in. Bringing it up, giving it air time… it felt real, like it wasn’t in my head and I wasn’t exaggerating. I just need time to process it.”

He stares down at me and I see the hurt in his eyes. Not hurtfromme, butforme.

I place a palm on his cheek. “It’s okay. I'm okay.”

He swallows hard and presses a soft kiss on my forehead. We sit in a comfortable silence until Cole says, “It feels like we defiled someone else's house.”

My body rattles with laughter. “Imagine what can happen when you actually live here.”

“Oh, the possibilities,” he says with a wistful sigh. “Will you come back?”

“What do you mean?”

He leans up on his elbow and runs his fingers through my hair before taking a deep breath. “Are we going to keep doing this? I just…” Cole doesn't continue, his words for the first time ever sounding unsure and insecure. “At the risk of ruining everything we've shared and reminding you of all the reasons this shouldn't be happening, I need to know what you want. I will walk away if you want me to, but I'm too selfish to let you go without telling you that I want this. I wantyou.”

“I want you too.”

They're four simple words. Words we slip into everyday conversations. Words that on their own can have such underwhelming meanings. They’re four simple words, but strung together, they hold the weight and power to change everything.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“About you?”

“About me, about the risk, about it all.”

I contemplate what he’s saying for the hundredth time, and every time I come up with the same answers. With my vulnerability at an all-time high, I slice myself deeper, open myself up wider. Around him, I don’t know how to do anything else but bleed the truth.

“I don’t ever want to forget that this was real. Everything you’ve given me. Keep giving me. Knowingly and unknowingly, in a really short span of time, you’ve shaken up my world. Made me feel different. Made me feel better. I never want to forget that. I never want to forget you.”

“We’ll take it slow,” he tells me. “We’ll work it out.”

His confidence returns, every word more certain than the one before. It’s what I need, what I want to hear. Knowing I’m not jumping off this cliff and into the beast of the unknown, alone.

“We won’t need to hold out or depend on those stolen moments.” He kisses me in excitement, and I bask in his affection. “I’ll give us so much more.”

“I want it all,” I say huskily. I pull him back to me, kissing him, showing him just how enticing his offer sounds. “Cole,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, baby?”

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