Page 49 of Love Contract

Unlike his brother’s, Sullivan’s bedroom is tidy. His bed is made, the pillows fluffed and covers folded back. The only things on his nightstand are several stacked books. I’m going to have to do more than just glance around if I want to learn anything.

I cross over to the bed to examine the spines of the books.Black Swan Events, Steve Jobs’ biography, andAtomic Habits…

I flip through that last one, noting that Sullivan has highlighted passages on almost every page, in multi-colored pens.

“Nerd…,” I whisper, smiling to myself as I close the book, setting it back exactly where I found it.

I would not have pegged Sullivan as a dedicated highlighter. But then, he did get pretty good grades for someone who pretended not to give a shit.

Standing this close to the bed is like standing right next to Sullivan himself. I can tell which pillow he uses most often because it’s flatter.

Impulsively, I pull back the covers and slide between his sheets. I put my head down on his most-used pillow and pull the blankets partway over my head.

Holy hell, it’s intoxicating in here.

My head spins like I’m huffing paint.

Sullivan’s scent is feral, warm, and delicious. It conjures up a flickering carousel of images: those deep, dark eyes, the slow fall of his hair before he swipes it back with his hand, the look of his forearms when he turns back his sleeves, the wicked glint of his teeth when he smiles at me…

My thighs clench together beneath the sheets.

I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt and a baggy pair of shorts.

It’s easy to slip my hand beneath the waistband of those shorts and let it find its way down to where I’m warm and throbbing…

This is wrong on many levels, I’m aware of that.

I shouldn’t have come into Sullivan’s room. I shouldn’t be lying in his bed.

But now that I am, his scent on the pillow is pure euphoria. I can breathe it in over and over without anyone knowing.

And who does it hurt, if I touch myself just a little bit?

I’m not naked, I’m not dirtying his sheets…

I’m just lightly pressing my fingers in the place that feels the best while my thighs squeeze together and my hips gently rock…

I’m barely moving at all, mostly just lying here.

And after all, Sullivan said I could do whatever I want…

I breathe in and out, eyes closed, remembering the feel of his lips against my hair, his breath tickling my ear…

Here you go, gorgeous…

He was just passing me the salt, but it set my whole body alight.

It’s been a long time since someone called me a pet name or touched my hand or asked me to dance…

Is it so bad if I pretend it was real, just for a moment?

My lips part as I remember the two times we’ve kissed. The first time, I barely had a chance to register the warmth and softness of his mouth before it was over. The second time, as he ducked his head toward me, I braced myself, helplessly giddy with anticipation. And even then, it surprised me all over again, how a pair of lips could brush against mine for less than a second and steal all my breath.

It was a chaste kiss.

I imagine what never actually happened, his lips parting, his tongue sliding against mine…and I groan as I touch myself, my fingers wet and slippery…

I think of the way his gaze rested on my body when I said he didn’t know my size.

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