He waits for me to speak, and as much as I want to confide in my best friend all my fears and worries, I know tonight is one of celebration and heavy stuff like that can wait.
“And letting you kiss her in public,” he continues.
“She’s pretty amazing.”
“What happens after?”
He doesn’t have to specify what “after” he is referencing. After means when things are normal. When she doesn’t need our protection any longer.
I shrug because I’m leery of confessing out loud any type of possible negative outcome. I don’t want that shit floating around, terrified speaking it will force it to come true.
“Are you going to let her go?”
I scoff, lifting my beer to my lips before speaking. “Not a damn chance.”
He laughs, slapping me on the back before walking across the room to lift his wife from the couch before sitting down in her place and settling her on his lap.
April giggles, pressing her lips to his cheek, and I know I’d probably get a smack to the face if I just pulled that shit with Faith.
I choose to keep things calm by watching her from across the room. I spend hours chatting with the other guys and making small talk before I have to choose between getting a little caveman-like and going to her or calling it a night.
I keep within the safety of the unspoken rules we have and retire to my bedroom.
Chapter 30
Faith
I’m usually a confident woman, and even when I’m not feeling it, I manage to appear to be in complete control.
I don’t feel confident at all as I walk into the bedroom. The entire club has been celebrating the court win since midafternoon, and although it’s now dark outside, the day coming to an end, they show no signs of slowing.
I was exhausted when I handed Aria back to Lana and told everyone goodnight. Now that I’m in the room, listening to the shower run in the bathroom, sleep is the last thing on my mind.
I don’t know why I’m hesitant to open the door. We’ve had sex in that shower twice already. Maybe it’s because we usually leave the door cracked, an open invitation to join the other, whereas it’s pulled closed right now.
Maybe he doesn’t want to be disturbed. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, and he’s starting to put distance between us. We have a lot of sex, and I can’t help but wonder if both of us aren’t substituting it for the real stuff, for the conversations we should be having rather than depending on our bodies to speak our truths.
I shake my head, rejecting thoughts like that. If I believed what his body told me each time we came together like that, I’d think the man was obsessed with me. His body says he never wants me more than a few inches away from him. His body worships mine like he’ll never be able to get enough.
The closed bathroom door spells out something else entirely.
This isn’t how I planned for the night to end, but maybe having this conversation now is what’s best.
I turn the knob and step inside of the steamed-up room. As if he could sense me on the other side of the door, he’s already turned to face me when I walk inside, swiping his hand over the condensation on the glass to see me better.
His teeth are digging into his bottom lip as his shoulder flexes. I can’t see exactly what’s going on below the area of the glass he cleared away, but the burning look in his eyes hints at it.
He’s stroking himself, and if I could be around this man without my brain frying, I imagine I’d question why he’s in here masturbating rather than seeking me out to bring him pleasure. That’s what I should be doing, but the sight before me has the power to turn me on rather than turn me away.
I don’t say a word as I cross the room and open the shower door. I don’t pull a thread of fabric from my body, as I sink to my knees in front of him. I’ve had my mouth on him more than once, but he’s never allowed me to get him off all the way like this.
If there’s ever going to be a time, this is it.
The sounds of pleasure he makes rattle from deep inside of him, sending a thrill up my spine as I suck harder.
Spray from the showerhead soaks my clothes, but I’ll worry about dry cleaning issues later.
He doesn’t touch me, doesn’t guide me, doesn’t speak his pleasure, or give me commands.
He doesn’t hide what he’s feeling either. I can tell by the tension in his legs, the way his breath catches every single time I pull back and suck on just the head of his cock, how much he’s enjoying this.