Page 99 of Touch Me

“What else do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.” I pace wildly, wearing a path on the floor. “Something.”

“How about,” she grips her chin in a thinker’s pose, slowly making her way closer to me “thinking about the way you pulled my hair and held me down is making me wet all over again? Does that help?”

I stop dead in my tracks. A literal cease and desist on all pacing.

Currently unable to move.

I think my brain just sent an error message. “Get in the shower, Cass.”

She drops her towel, a sly grin on her face like she just won a prize, and does just that.

TWENTY-SIX

IT WAS ALWAYS YOU

I’min the kitchen checking on the roast I threw in the crockpot before work when the music cuts off upstairs in the gym. Jace makes his way down the stairs and stalks right over, towel thrown over his shoulder, and hauls me in for a kiss. The last few weeks of touching,oh the touching,has proven our theory that overstimulation is key for Jace. It’s gotten easier each time. And I told him I like the dirty talk and him ordering me around.

Yes, sir! Keep that shit up!

We’re now at the point where we sleep in the same bed, and though we don’t go to sleep touching, we always wake wrapped around each other. The first morning, I remember waking when I could feel Jace’s arms stiffen around me. He woke up with his arms wrapped around me and didn’t want to disturb me.

I went to slip out of his grasp, and he tightened his arms and said not to move and just let him breathe through it. And he did. As far as I can tell, it’s either gotten easier, or he’s getting better at hiding his discomfort.

“Did you see I put the carrots and potatoes in?”

“I did. They look perfect. Thank you.” I lean into him for another kiss.

He holds up both his hands. “I didn’t even lose a finger,” he jokes.

“Well hell, I think there’s a new chef in town. Finally, I can stop slaving over this stove.” I dust my hands off and make my way around the island as if I was leaving the kitchen.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Jace grabs me around the waist and pulls my back into his chest. “I cut up carrots; I’m no master chef. I think I’ll need you to stick around for more lessons.” He nuzzles the back of my neck until I’m wiggling in his arms. “I’m an awful student.”

“Is this the point in our relationship where we start playing professor and student that needs punishment?” I spin around and look at his face, and it’s a mix of intrigue and horror.

“Uh.” Is all he says.

“I’m kidding, relax,” I muse.

My phone buzzes on the counter with a text from the group chat with Jess and Ella.

Jess:

Hey boo, you busy this weekend?

Me:

Don’t think so, whatsup?

Jess:

Wanna get drinks this weekend? I was thinking about planning a dinner for Jace’s birthday coming up.

Ella:

Drinks? Hell yes!

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