Page 44 of Follow Me Down

“I’m not?” I question, confused by his sudden announcement.

“He’s cooked more in the last two days then he has in the past two months.” He gestures toward his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah,” Link grunts. “Fuck you.” He grins. “You two coming or what?”

“You go ahead,” Titus tells me. “I’ll be right behind you guys.”

“Oh-okay,” I stutter, still reeling from everything that’s happened in the last few minutes.

“Come on, puppet.” Link waits until I reach him before turning and exiting the shop, with me right on his heels.

——

It’s two in the morning. I can’t sleep. Hell, I can’t do anything but replay the events from earlier this evening over and over again in my head.

After Titus joined Link and I inside for sandwiches, it was like nothing had happened. He acted totally normal. A part of me assumed it was to keep Link in the dark. But the other part of me is worried that maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal for him as it was for me.

Of course it wasn’t.

He’s a twenty-eight-year-old man who’s probably slept with countless woman over his lifetime. You don’t look the way Titus does and not get laid often. Maybe I’m just another notch. Maybe it really was only sex for him.

I wish that’s all it was for me. But there’s no denying the pull I have felt toward Titus since I climbed on his bike that first night. Even scared and unsure, I couldn’t ignore the way my pulse spiked when his gray eyes met mine for the first time.

It’s like he has cast a spell over me with that one look and the effects have only grown stronger since. What else could possibly explain my behavior today? I don’t recognize myself when I’m around him. I say things I would normally never say. I do things I never in a million years would do. Case in point – today in the shop.

It's like I forget who I am when Titus is around. Who knows, maybe thisisme. I’ve lived under my father’s thumb for so long I don’t think I’d recognize the real me if she were standing right in front of me.

Letting out an audible sigh, I kick the covers off my legs, wishing I could shut my brain off and get some sleep. I’m seconds away from getting out of bed when the sound of the door opening freezes me in place.

I see a silhouette cross over the threshold before it closes, followed by the distinct sound of the lock clicking into place. I know it’s Titus. I can tell by the way the air shifts around me. By the way the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. By the way my heart suddenly feels like it’s lodged somewhere in my throat.

I lay completely still, waiting to see what his next move is going to be.

He stops on the opposite side of the bed from where I’m lying. I hear the rustle of his jeans moments before the mattress dips from his weight.

Seconds later, his arm slides around my middle and he tugs backward, pulling my back flush against his front. His incredible scent invades my senses and I breathe him in deep, sure that I must be dreaming.

He doesn’t say a word and neither do I. My heart is pounding so hard against my ribs it’s a wonder they can withstand the assault.

His lips brush the side of my neck. His fingers trace up and down my arm causing goosebumps to prickle across my skin. And I feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal as he presses it against my backside.

It’s like once again all thought goes right out the window and my body acts on its own accord. I turn in his arms, my lips finding his in the darkness.

His hand slides to the side of my neck, his thumb caressing the sensitive area right below my ear as he kisses me. It’s not rough and demanding like before, but instead soft and slow.

He takes his time, tasting me, testing me, exploring my body like it’s the most mesmerizing road map he’s ever seen. I’m lost to the sensation. To the feeling of his hands on my body. Of his lips on my body.

Minutes bleed into hours as our bodies bend and mold into one. I’ve never felt anything even close to what Titus makes me feel. And while I’m trying to keep it to the physical, I can’t deny that there’s something brewing emotionally as well. How could it not? How could I look at this man and not want more? How could I feel his body against mine and not want his heart right along with it?

That’s the one thing that resonates over and over again in my mind as I lay in Titus’ arms, my ear pressed to his chest, listening to the sound of his slow and steady heartbeat as my spent body finally succumbs to exhaustion.

How badly I want this to be real.

——

“Hey, you got a minute?” I look up from the sketchbook in my lap to find Titus standing in the open doorway.

“Yeah.” I smile at the sight of him, leaning forward to set my book and pencil on the coffee table before standing.

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