Page 28 of Ex- Factor
Chapter Sixteen- Silas
I was on the second-floor balcony of Silas house, sunk into a cushioned lounge chair, a half-smoked blunt burning between my shaking fingers. Silas was supposed to be asleep. I couldn’t. Summer Walker’s “Girls Need Love Too” was on repeat on my cellphone, her voice seeping into my bloodstream like the smoke curling from my lips.
I was almost high, I felt floaty. Aroused. Torn apart.
My thought wouldn’t slow down, the main one was… What if Silas got tired of this back-and-forth? Of me? What if he woke up one day and decided I wasn’t worth the monumental patience he was pouring into me? That girl from the grocery store—Charmaine—still wanted him. I didn’t like her ass, I’d played it cool, but the green-eyed monster had been clawing at my ribs. But then he was the hiding behind a cereal box from her, while begging me for scraps. We were not the same. But… what if my hesitation finally broke him? What if he slid back into something easy and familiar because I was still straddling the fence?
Which would hurt more? To lose him without ever knowing what it felt like to be fully his? Or to lose him after being his?
I dragged hard on the blunt, my chest tightened eyes burned. I hadn’t really smoked since the night before Donte wedding so the smoke stung, but it wasn’t enough to blur the ache. I blamed Donte for all of it—for the mess I was, for the trust issues I was putting Silas through. If he had just loved me the way I’d begged him to, maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here second-guessing a man who hadn’t given me a single reason to. This mother fucker had ruined my ability to trust peace. And I hated him for it because now the realest man I’d ever felt was sleeping in that bedroom, and I was too terrified to go claim him.
The sliding door creaked open behind me.
I stubbed out the blunt.
“Hey.” Silas said. Voice thick with sleep.
I looked over my shoulder. He was barefoot, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, T-shirt wrinkled from sleep. His hair was messy, but his eyes were sharp, locked on me. I hadn’t even had sex with him yet. But my body was begging for it, like it remembered how good it could be.
Heat crept up my neck. I looked away.
I jumped a little as he sat behind me, he slid his arms around me from behind, pulling me back into the solid warmth of his chest. The night was cool, but his body was a furnace. I could feel his lips, warm against my neck, then the hard press of his dick against the small of my back.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered into my skin.
“Nothing. You were supposed to be asleep.”
“I was. But you’re loud when you’re in your head. I can feel it.”
I scoffed. “You can’t feel me thinking.”
He pulled me around to face him. “Bet I can.”
He drew a circle on my palm that made my spine tingle.
“You were thinking about your ex. About my ex. About what we’re doing here.”
I was speechless.
He pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder blade. “You don’t have to say it out loud, Eshe. I already know you. It sounds illogical, but it’s the truest thing I’ve ever felt. My soul recognizes yours. It’s that simple—and that complicated.”
His hands slid around my waist, holding me there like he was grounding me.
“You’re scared, and I understand that. I told you that first night—I knew what to do with you. So let me handle this. I won’t lead us wrong. Just… stop thinking for a minute and be here with me.”
My chest squeezed. I couldn’t look at him.
I didn’t answer with words. I leaned down and kissed him.
No warning. No easing in. I just grabbed his face and kissed him like I needed to steal the air from his lungs. Because I did. I was done being scared.
His hands roamed my body, leaving trails of fire. I moaned into his mouth as his fingers found my nipples, teasing and pinching them into hard peaks. The kiss stretched—deep and hungry. I tasted him, let my teeth scrape his bottom lip until he groaned. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me out of the chair like I weighed nothing. He stood and maneuvered me. My back hit the balcony door, and he didn’t stop kissing me as he slid it open, walking us backward into his bedroom.
His clothes came off between kisses. He dragged my nightshirt over my head—I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. He kissed my mouth, my throat. His hands were everywhere, like he couldn’t decide where to touch first. His T-shirt hit the floor, then his shorts. His chest was solid and warm under my palms. He tasted like weed and chocolate. He hovered over me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips going back to my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. “So fucking perfect.”
I gasped as he moved lower. His teeth scraped against my nipple, and my hands flew to his hair, tugging him back up.
