Page 197 of Scattered Glitter

“You really are sweet—”

She presses her thumb against my lips, cutting off my words. I fall silent, unable to do anything but watch as she slides her hand down, fingers brushing against the hem of my shirt, slipping under to graze my skin. Her touch is featherlight, tracing over the lines of my abs, and the simple act makes me shudder and my cock twitch, the sensation enough to send a current through my entire body.

Then her mouth is on mine again, deeper, more insistent. It’s a kiss that pulls me under completely, hot and breathless. The heat between us is electric and makes my thoughts scatter while her fingers continue their slow exploration along my torso, driving me out of my mind. But there’s a part of me that knows I need to stop her.

Before I can’t.

“Sweetness.” I catch her wrist, breaking the kiss, both of us panting. “I want to take things slow with you. This…” I search for the words, wanting her to know how serious this is for me, “… you’re way too important to me to rush this. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

She blinks, and I see her swallow, her eyes flicking away for a split second as if she hadn’t expected that. And, shit,maybe I’ve already messed it up. Maybe she thinks I don’t want her.

She doesn’t know how badly I do.

Hell, I’m hard enough right now to prove it.

I bring her hand up to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I just want to hold you close and watch a movie with you. If I have any say in it, then we’ll have all the time in the world to go further.”

She bites her lip, and I see the tiniest nod. Still, there’s something in her expression, a vulnerability, as though she’s not quite sure of herself.

I pull her closer, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I want you so fucking badly,” I murmur, looking into her eyes, hoping she can feel how much I mean it. “I’ll kiss every beautiful inch of you, but not tonight. Tonight, I only want this.”

She exhales a relieved breath, her shoulders relaxing as she shifts off my lap. I lie back, pulling her down to rest against me, feeling her melt into my side, her head finding its place on my chest. Reaching over, I grab the remote from the nightstand and turn it toward her. “Pick something for us, okay?” I tell her, opening up the streaming service.

She glances up at me with a small, appreciative smile, and it’s enough to make the ache in my chest grow softer.

She scrolls through the endless rows of movies and pauses over a few romantic comedies, flicking past them until she stops on a familiar title. “How about this?”

It’s an action movie, a good one too. “You know this one?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t. It’s a fucking classic.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Fair point. You’ve got good taste.”

“Duh,” she teases, settling back against my chest as the movie starts.

I should be focused on the screen, but my attention keeps drifting to her, the way her head fits perfectly against my shoulder and her hair brushes my arm with every slight movement. Explosions light up the room as the movie plays on, but all I can think about is the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her body pressed against mine.

She glances up at me occasionally, her eyes catching the light from the screen, and each time, it sends a subtle ache through my chest. I wonder if she can feel how tightly I’m holding onto this moment, how much I just want her to stay like this forever.

At some point during the movie, I feel her hand start to drift up, her fingers brushing lightly along my hairline, giving me a soothing massage. The way her fingertips press and trace gentle circles sends a wave of comfort through me.

“Careful,” I murmur, fighting to keep my eyes open. “Keep that up, and I’ll fall asleep right here.”

She chuckles, but her touch turns softer. “I’ll wake you up when the good part’s on.”

I tilt my head to catch her gaze. “You’re the good part.” The words slip out unbidden, but her eyes soften making it worth it.

“Nah.” She laughs, giving me a light nudge. “Sleeping’s always the best part.”

“Sleeping’s the best because you’re not actually dead, but you’re not awake either,” I say, my words slurring slightly as I relax into her touch. “It’s a win-win situation.”

“Like being dead without the commitment. It’s… an open relationship with death.”

I chuckle. “Death with benefits.”

Her laughter warms me from the inside out, and I let myself sink into her touch, each gentle stroke easing me toward sleep. I’ve never let anyone get this close. It’s surreal,like waking up in the middle of a dream I never knew I wanted, but it’s real, and she’s here.

Maybe, for once, there’s something to look forward to in all this mess.

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