Page 24 of Too Good to be True

Needful.

Hands paw and mouths nip. Like starving animals, we go at each other. I straddle one leg over his lap, rubbing, grinding against his thick thigh. His arms are tight around me. Holding me. Clutching me. Pressed against his chest, I feel his heartbeat. It's frantic, just like mine. We're close, but not close enough. I want, no need, to feel him inside me again.

My lips travel to his neck, kissing him. Tasting him. I grab the hem of his shirt and lift it up over his head. My hands travel over his bare skin, enjoying his warmth, his strength.

I never felt this kind of passion for Corey. The need to climb on top of him and rip his clothes off.

Corey.

The thought sobers me up. Cools me off. I pull away from Tim, embarrassed once again at my behavior. This isn’t who I am.

“What’s wrong?" He looks confused. "Did I hurt you?" He sounds concerned.

My chest tightens. It's guilt. I'm just not sure if it's guilt over what I just did, how I acted earlier, or the fact that I don't feel one stitch of regret that I'm not doing any of this with Corey. I shouldn't either. This was his choice. It's on him. But we were together for years. Shouldn't I be mourning our relationship? Shouldn't I feel something more?

"No. I'm sorry, I just felt . . . overwhelmed."

His turn to look away and shut down. "I pushed too far, didn’t I? Should I leave?" He asks, sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

"No! I mean, please don't. I just need a minute." I reach out and rest my palm on the top of his thigh.

After a few long breaths, he uncovers the dishes, putting the spread of food on display. One tray is full of fruit: grapes, strawberries, and bananas, with a bowl of melted chocolate in the center. Another dish has an order of pancakes dripping with syrup. And the last dish has an array of mini quiches.

"How did you get all this? The kitchen is closed."

He smiles. "That's what took so long. I had to twist a few arms. It's not much, and they couldn’t find any watermelon, but I didn't want to show up empty-handed."

My heart thumps.

Francesca was right. I need to be careful. This man is dangerous, alright. Dangerous to my heart.

Tim picks up a strawberry, dips it in the chocolate, and brings it to my lips. I open my mouth, welcoming the sweet treat. He rubs it along my bottom lip before placing it on my tongue. I close my mouth and chew. Wanting to partake in the fun, I do the same and offer it to him. We take turns feeding each other, teasing each other while we talk about sports and our favorite athletes.

A sharp rap on the door causes me to jump and my fingers to slip into the chocolate sauce, along with a banana slice.

"Shit!"

Tim takes my hand, brings it up to his mouth, and wraps his lips around my fingers, clearing the sweet brown substance from me.

"Be right there," I call out.

Before I open the door, I look through the peephole to make sure someone didn't knock in error. As I suspect, it’s Francesca.

"Sorry," I mouth to Tim. I hold up my index finger, signaling I need a minute.

I crack the door open and slip outside, closing it before Francesca has a chance to embarrass me.

"I wanted to make sure you're still alive and not at the bottom of a lake somewhere or chopped into pieces in the bathtub."

"I'm fine. I told you, he's not a nut case."

She shakes her head in disapproval. "I don't know how you can say that."

"You came. You checked on me. Now you can go to bed."

"So I don't even get to meet him?"

"I think it's a little premature for him to meet my friends."

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