Page 45 of Because of Me

A gentle groan rumbles through my chest as I press against her. I untangle my fingers from hers and stretch my hand over her breast. The thin material of her sleep tank hides nothing from my touch. The gentle mound fits perfectly in my palm and her nipple firms between my fingers.

Kissing her neck, I adjust my hips to run my erection over her pussy. She doesn’t react, and I stop, loosening my grip on her chest and shifting my hips away from hers.

“Amira?” I whisper in her ear. “Is everything okay?”

And suddenly we are back to every morning before.

With jerky movements, Amira scoots away from me. She pulls the covers with her as she sits on the edge of the bed.

“I’m having a shower,” she states, and without answering me she hobbles to the small bathroom. Bedsheets and all.

I lay prone on the bed, watching the bathroom door with no idea how this morning has suddenly gone so wrong. I was so sure yesterdaymeantsomething. Like we’d crossed a bridge together and were standing on the other side. And sure, the path ahead was far from clear, but we’d at least made it over.

The clang of the shower screen echoes through the bathroom, followed by the splash of water. I don’t think of Amira naked. I don’t think of how her skin glows or how her nipples are just a shade darker than her lips. I don’t think about how the water might wash over the swell of her breasts and down the divots in her hips. I don’t think about the small tuft of hair she has trimmed like a runway leading to heaven.

Fuck. I’m definitely thinking about all those things and my cock knows it. If my morning wood was mildly aroused earlier, it’s fucking painful now. Blood swells and my balls pulse with a steady ache.

Reaching down, I run my palm along the length, stretching it to the side with just the right amount of pressure. But I refuse to do more than that. Masturbating to the thought of Amira while sitting on her bed once was bad enough. Doing it while she’s in the shower is too much, no matter how much my dick is begging for relief.

With a heavy sigh, I roll off the bed and grab a pair of shorts from the drawer Amira cleared out for me. I have to tuck my cock in the waistband like a horny fucking teenager, but desperate times and all that. I’m pulling a loose henley over my head when Amira emerges from the bathroom.

She’s holding a plush white towel around her body and has her hair bundled up under a purple plastic cover.

“That was quick.” I blurt the comment out to fill the silence that was starting to take hold.And thank fuck I thought better than to try to rub one out while you were in there,I manage not to say out loud.

Holding the towel with one hand, Amira uses the other to make a spinning motion with her finger. “Turn around while I get dressed.”

My mouth falls open, ready to tell her I’ve already seen her naked, but I snap it shut when her lips press into a firm thin line. Right. Not pushing it.

I do as she says, and with facing the wall I hear her rustle around in the drawers. Like her shower, she seems to get dressed in a rush. I’ve barely had time to figure out how to turn the morning around when she flops onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

“You can turn around now.”

Amira lays with her arms wide and legs dangling off the bed. One of my old navy T-shirts drapes over her body, revealing the bare skin of her upper thighs.My shirt. It shouldn’t cause this unexpected pulling in my chest, but it does.

I follow my heart, crawling onto the bed to lay beside her.

“It doesn’t have to change anything.” Staring at the ceiling, Amira’s whisper is barely audible over my beating pulse. But her words wedge a crack through my sternum, hammering into me like a wood splitter.

“What if it already has?”

Amira jolts up, leaning on her palms as she looks back at me. “Has it?”

Panic washes over her face. Instead of their usual golden glow or the bright pink of her blush, her cheeks pale. Her mouth parts as her lower lip quivers.

Ithoughtyesterday changed everything but seeing her now I know it barely cracked the surface of her internal struggles. I want to break down her walls and be her everything, but only she can make that possible. Tucking my hands underneath my head, I do what I can to keep my face neutral. Seeing how this is hurting me will only make her feel worse.

“Honestly, there’s no changing how I feel about you, Amira. And yesterday was meant to be about you learning to trust yourself not to hurt me. Not to hurt yourself. Only you can say if it worked.”

“If it helps, I think I worked out what the problem is.” Amira shuffles over a little before laying back down on her side. She curls her knees to her chest, keeping her hands under her chin.

I’ve come to realise that despite my constant reassurances, I can’t help her here. And most of what I’m saying seems to be making her unravelling emotions even worse. Turning my head, I keep my mouth shut and hum to encourage her to continue.

“I’m clearly holding a lot of … I wouldn’t call it trauma but almost trauma? Heavy emotions?” She closes her eyes, shaking her head a little before continuing. “It doesn’t matter what I try to call it, but it’s a lot. And I think if I started to feel this way when you were just my roommate’s cousin, I could handle it. But I don’t know where the line is between what my family expects us to be and what we really are. I don’t know how much of what I’m feeling is just because I’ve been telling people you’re my boyfriend and how much of it is actually how I feel.”

Pressing my lips together, I fight the urge to fill the tiny gap of silence while she sucks in a deep breath before continuing.

“And Sadik’s wedding is in a week. It was hard enough the last time and now we have to do it again. What if Ella accidentally says something or what if I freak out or what if my dad starts making demands? It’s too much.”

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