Page 107 of All We Need

Water sloshes over the sides of the tub as he spins me; back to chest again.Histhickening cock nudges my bottom.

He’s avoiding the subject, tactfully diverting my attention.Iwant to be mad, to draw the truth from him.Whichis unfair.He’sbeen nothing but patient with me, soI’lldo the same until he’s ready.

I push back into his erection, drawing a hiss from him.

“I’m going to do filthy things to you tonight,Silver.”

“Promises, promises.”

Arousal curls my toes as he palms my breasts.Thecool air pebbles my skin, eyes fluttering closed asIdrift into ecstasy under his touch.Hepinches and rolls my nipples.Iwiden my legs and succumb to his skillful hands, right there in the bubbles.

Our conversation temporarily forgotten.

My younger selfsaw nervousness as a weakness.

Dance recitals.Volleyballcompetitions.Firstdates.Anytimemy hands became clammy or stomach somersaulted,I’dtalk myself out of it.Ididn’t get the jitters.

That ideology still holds true today.

The idea of seeingMartinagain has my temples pulsing and legs bouncing, leaving me delicate and feeble.

My solace?Booth.

But he’s not here to talk me off this cliff.Andhe probably wouldn’t.He’dtell me it’s not that high up, and if and whenIjump, he’ll be there at the bottom to soften my fall.He’snot far, about a hundred yards away working the lunch service, but tell that to my brain.

I’m about to crawl out of my skin when my phone vibrates on the desk.

“How’s my favorite daughter?”

A smile pulls at my lips, my father’s voice always filling me with happiness.

“Youronlydaughter is fine.Howare you?”Imanage to laugh, though it’s weak.

“Uh-oh.I’vebeen married long enough not to accept ‘fine.’What’swrong?”Concernlaces his words.

There’s no fooling him or my mom.Whichis whyIdon’t mince my words.

“I finally met withMartinand let’s just say it didn’t go to plan.”Igrimace at the reminder.

My dad lets out a slow breath. “Oh,Aly.Whathappened?”

His defeated tone is telling.Myparents begged me to reconsider whenItold them my reasons for buyingOurPlace, not wanting me to relive the meeting with my birth mother.Iunderstood their worries, but listening to others’ advice was never my forte.

“It was me, not him.Hestill doesn’t know.Orat leastIdon’t think he does.Iturned up at his house, with no warning, and after five minutes, left without saying goodbye.”Myhead thumps against the back of the rolling chair. “Weare meeting him again this afternoon.”

“We?” my dad asks in surprise.

Oh shoot.Forobvious reasons, my parents don’t know aboutBooth.Well, they do, but as the head chef.

“A friend is coming with me.HeknowsMartin, so it’ll be less awkward.”Thelie rolls off my tongue easily.

“Well, okay.You’llcall us when you’ve spoken to him?Nomatter the outcome?”

No matter the outcome.

IfMartinturns me away, he means.

“I will,Papa.I’msorryIhaven’t called much.”Guiltsits heavy in my stomach.

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