If I’m taking her to bed, it’s with a clean slate between us.
“I should go,” she spits out the words I was expecting.
I ignore them and turn toward her, so I’m facing her directly. “I need you to hear me out, Faith.”
“It’s okay,” she tries to reassure me. “You don’t have to say a thing.”
I wish that were true, but it’s not.
I don’t know how to do this, but I’ve learned through a hell of a lot of trial and error that being direct is the route to take, so I go there.
I suck in a deep breath and stare down at her. I want her eyes on me when she hears this.
“I want you.”
Her lips tremble. “But just now.”
“Just now, I wanted to kiss you,” I admit. “Jesus, did I want that.”
The smallest smile tugs at her pouty lips. “You can kiss me.”
Permission granted, but still, I can’t. I don’t confess that to her because I need to stay on course if I hope to move whatever is happening between us forward.
I reach for her other hand and hold it in mine. I do that as much to offer her comfort as to keep her in place because pretty Miss Upton is going to make a break for the door when she hears what I need to say.
Need, not want.
I don’t want to do this to her, but fate brought me and my sinful curiosity here, so this is the penance for that.
I’ll pay the price, even if it means I’ll never see her again.
That’s a real possibility.
“What is it?” Worry taints her tone. “Tell me, Dr. Hawthorne.”
“Matthew,” I insist loudly. “Please, Faith, I need you to call me Matthew.”
I need that so my confession doesn’t come off as even more perverted than it is.
How the fuck did I end up here?
That question lingers in the air as I look down at her. “You’re an incredible young woman, Faith. You’re beautiful and brilliant, and your drive is admirable.”
She studies my face as she absorbs that. “Thank you.”
“I should have told you this before.” I look to the heavens for guidance, but all I get is a view of my ceiling that could use a fresh coat of paint.
“Told me what?”
I clear my throat because I want her to understand the next words out of my mouth. I sure as hell don’t want to repeat them. “I read more of your diary than the first entry. I know you’re a virgin. I know what you want me to do to you.”
I’ve never watched a person literally fall to their knees, but she’s down for the count.
Her legs give out, and she’s sinking fast, so I grab her. I slide my arm under her and scoop her up.
Small sounds escape her, but I can’t tell if they are words or pleas for help.
Either way, I carry her to my couch and place her down on her ass.
That doesn’t sit well with her because she tries to stand. She wobbles slightly but is around me before I can stop her.
I turn to see her at my apartment door. Her hand is wrapped so tightly around the doorknob that her knuckles are straining.
“Don’t run,” I call out to her. “Don’t go, Faith. Stay and talk to me.”
She turns, and I see it. I see the pain in her eyes and tears clouding her vision.
She swipes a hand over her cheek, but it clears nothing away. The tears haven’t fallen yet. They’re building in her eyes like a dam about to burst.
“I can’t,” she mumbles.
I approach her. I don’t stalk toward her because I’ve already pushed her so far that she’s about to disappear forever.
“You can,” I insist. “I read it. It made me want things. It made me ache.”
All of that is more than I intended to share, but fuck it. I pushed her to a place where her vulnerability is on full display, so I deserve to join her there.
I keep talking, hoping my admissions keep her within my reach.
“I jacked off thinking about what you wrote.” The words are dirty and filled with need, but they’re honest. They are a true reflection of what I felt.
“What?” That one word tumbles out of her in a breathless rush.
“Reading about how you wanted me to touch you and taste you,” I pause to step closer. “Jesus, Faith. It was so fucking hot. All of it was so fucking hot.”
Her hand tightens on the doorknob. “You didn’t really think it was hot. I can’t believe you’d think…”
“Believe it.” I’m inches away from her now.
My heart pounds in my chest. My cock is trying to break through the zipper of my jeans. I’ve been hard before, but this, this is beyond that.
I’m aching with so much intensity that I don’t know if I can stand another minute alone with her.