Page 88 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
“No. No,” I repeated, my feet suddenly remembering to move. I kissed her trembling lips. “I promise you, I’m not upset. Maybe a little surprised, but not upset.”
“Whew. OK good,” she breathed, tucking herself against me, laying her head on my shoulder. “I wanted you to know how I felt.”
We stayed on the dance floor for another song, but I wasn’t listening to the music. I don’t even know how I managed to keep a rhythm. I felt like two different people—someone who loved hearing those words and wanted to hear them again, and someone who was trying not to panic that the words came with certain expectations and I was in over my head.
In a way it was like tasting something unfamiliar, something you’d never even seen before, that turns out to be delicious. You take a bite, let the flavor and texture roll around on your tongue, chew it up, swallow, and your body sends a message to your brain—we like this! Give us more! But the brain might caution restraint—hold on there, we don’t even know what this is yet, it could be poisonous.
My body was happy, flushed with heat and tingling. My heart was beating quickly, and I even felt a little out of breath. I like this feeling. I like that she loves me. Tell me again, Claire. Let me hear the words again.
But some stubborn part of my brain couldn’t let go and enjoy it. Couldn’t quite believe it was true. Couldn’t say the words back.
Why? Didn’t I love her? Didn’t she make me happier than anyone ever had? Didn’t I hate the thought of losing her?
Questions started to worm their way inside my brain, and I did my best to keep them out and stay in the moment, focus on the physical—my hand on her back, the scent of her perfume, the whisper of her breath on my neck.
But concentrating on the physical aspects of Claire had consequences, and I started to get hard. Yes, I thought. Sex was something I understood. Something I was good at. Something I could offer her. My body could succeed where my words would fail.
I spoke low in her ear. “I’m dying to taste you. Think anyone will notice if I put my head up your dress?”
She laughed. “It is a long dress, but yes.”
“Then when can I get you alone so I can bury my face in your thighs?”
“Mmm, that’s tempting.”
“I’m so hard right now.”
She gasped. “Are you?”
“Of course I am. I can’t think about my tongue in your pussy and not get hard.”
“Oh, God.”
“That’s what I want to hear—over and over again. I wonder how many times I can make you come tonight. Is three realistic? I like to aim high—I’ll go for four.”
“Theo.” She’d stopped moving.
“Yes?”
“I’m ready to go.”
We didn’t even wait for the song to finish, just grabbed our coats, said goodnight, and raced for the door.
* * *
I didn’t even wait until we got home.
“Pull up your dress,” I told her, my eyes on the highway, my hand on her leg.
She hesitated, glancing out the passenger window at the other cars on the highway. But she did as I asked.
“Good girl,” I said, sliding my hand up her inner thigh. “Now open your legs for me.”
Less than five minutes later, she was writhing in her seat, one palm flattened against the window, the other on the ceiling. I kept my eyes on the road and tried not to come in my pants.
“One,” I said when she was quiet again. Then I touched my fingertip to my tongue and pressed harder on the accelerator.
I gave her the second orgasm on the stairs going up to her bedroom. Her dress around her waist. Her legs slung over my shoulders. Her pussy squeezing my fingers while her clit throbbed under my tongue.
