Page 41 of See You Next Winter
“What do you mean?” he says flatly. Maybe this was a mistake.
“That thing we did last month was fucking hot. Me telling you about that guy. I want to hear about the last time you had sex.”
His jaw ticks ever so subtly, and he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, considering.
“OK, I’m down. Let me just…” he gets up from his sofa and I watch him walk the hallway towards his bedroom. “Cam could be back any time.”
He closes his door and flops onto his bed, but then gets right back up again.
“Actually, let me go wash my hands. If I get hot sauce on my dick, you’ll hear me screaming from all the way over there.”
He props his phone up on his nightstand so I can watch him leave, wiggling his hips and blowing me kisses as he goes. Rolling my eyes at his goofing off is an ingrained reaction, but I wish I was there, laying on his bed, waiting for him to come back. I wish I knew his place better, from real memories, not just the glimpses I get when we talk and he moves the camera around.
I wish for a lot of things, but that’s all they are. Wishes.
Ryan strips out of his t-shirt on the way back and I swear the smell of his skin floods my nostrils. Memories of my cheek against his chest, only a sheen of sweat between us, falling asleep in post-orgasmic bliss.
“So, what do you want to know?” he asks, collapsing onto his stomach, getting comfy with his chest propped up on a folded pillow.
Oh god, he’s going to make me say it out loud.
“You know… What have you been up to? Sexually speaking.”
“Hmm, well, honestly, the last time was a little rushed because we had places to be.”
“Oh.”
He sounds dismissive, and I can’t tell if that means it was good or bad sex.
“But there was a time, a few days before that, I keep coming back to it when I jerk off. Want me to tell you about that one?”
What the fuck?
“Sure.” I try to play it cool, though I’m starting to feel like this talking about other partners kink doesn’t work both ways. It's stupid to assume he only thinks about me when he masturbates. Who is this woman? Or are we talking about multiple here?
“Well,” he drawls. “It was different from the kind of sex I usually have with you.”
“How so?”
“It was kind of slow, and tender. I really took my time with her, made sure it was unforgettable, you know?”
The tight pull in the pit of my stomach doesn’t feel as good as it usually does when we talk like this. It grips at the bottom of my lungs, and breathing in feels hellish. What I thought would make me horny, actually makes me want to rip my skin off.
“Are you dating her?”
He suppresses a laugh. “She wouldn’t let me even if I tried.”
“Did she like it?”
“Oh yeah, she liked it. Want me to keep going?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I fucking hate this.
I should never have asked. Blood whooshes so fast in my ears I can’t actually focus on his words. I stare into some middle space past my phone screen, only glancing back when he says something that makes my chest hollow out.
“...so then she begged me to come inside her.”
