Page 94 of Glass Half Full
I’m more than distracted by what he’s doing with his fingers, but I force the words out.
“It’s kind of embarrassing.”
That gets his attention. He looks up from my chest and meets my eyes.
“What is it?”
“It’s just, uh...so back when I first started at Taverne Toulouse and we had our whole sexual tension thing going on...”
Dylan groans. “Those first few weeks were fucking torture.”
“Yeah, they were,” I agree, “so much so that I, uh, well the first time I ever thought about you—”
“Thought about me?” He wags his eyebrows.
“Yeah,thought about you,” I admit. “I was in the shower, and I pictured you being in there with me...”
He curses again, the words a low hiss that blends with the pounding of the water around us.
“What did you think about?” he orders. Even if I didn’t have his hard cock pressing against my thigh, I could tell just by the look in his eyes that he wants answers and is going to get them. “What was it like?”
“Pretty good,” I try to joke, but the dark need in his eyes stops me from playing around. “I, um, I thought about you pinning me against the wall.”
“Like this?” He pushes on my shoulders until I hit the back of the shower.
“Yeah.” I swallow. “Like that.”
“And then?”
“Then you...You put your thigh between my legs. You told me how wet I was.”
His thick thigh presses between mine, parts them, and leans into the part of me that’s aching for him. I moan and start grinding against him. I’m too turned on to hold back from going after the pressure I need.
“Mmmm.” Dylan lowers his mouth to my ear. “I can feel you. You’re so wet for me, Renee.”
I mumble something in response to that, but I’m past the point of using actual words.
“And then?” he prompts. “What happened next?”
“I...You...”
I drop my eyes from his, staring at his soaked chest instead. I’ve never asked for this before. I’m not sure it’s something he’ll like, if he’ll think differently of me knowing I want it. A part of me knows that’s bullshit, but I can’t hide the vulnerability, even from myself. I feel even more naked than I already am.
“Renee,” Dylan says gently, waiting for me to look at him again. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”
I do know that. He’s seen some of the darkest parts of me, the weakest parts, the things other people would tell me to be ashamed of, and he’s only ever viewed them as strengths.
“You...You put your hand around my throat.”
He falls forward, leaning far enough that he can rest his forehead against the tiles behind me. His chest caves with the force of his heavy exhale.
“Dylan?” I ask when he doesn’t show signs of moving. “Is that, uh, okay? I know it’s not—”
“If I’d known you were thinking that back then,” he interrupts, “I...Fuck, do you have any idea what you do to me?”
I almost want to laugh with relief. Instead I shift against his hard-on.
“I have an idea,” I tease.
