I arch a brow. “Have you ever come inside a girl before? Bare? Without a condom?”
Slowly, he shakes his head, leaning in for another kiss. “Never.”
“Promise?” Stopping him from kissing me, I rest my hand on his chest, right over his still rapidly pounding heart.
“Yes,” he whispers against my lips, his tongue slipping between them as his fingers slip inside me once more. He toys with my pussy, his fingers finding my still sensitive clit, and my body responds like the whore it is for this man. “I want to make you come again.”
“But I’m so tired.” I roll away from his seeking fingers, hating that I’m pushing him away.
If I could, I would let him fuck me all night long, let him make me come again and again. But we can’t do that.
We’ve run out of time.
He doesn’t have to speak a word, but I can feel his frustration with me. It lingers on his skin, echoes in his voice when he insists, “Sylvie. Let me. You know you want it.”
“No, I don’t. I need to sleep.” I glance over my shoulder at him, ignoring the pouty expression on his too handsome face. He is so hard to resist, but I have to. “That was my first time, Spencer. I’m sore.”
I’m really not, but I need to get out of here.
“Aw. My poor baby.” He doesn’t argue with me anymore. Just pulls me to him, my back to his front, his muscular arms sliding around my torso, those big hands splayed across my stomach, holding me in place. I can feel his cock nudge my butt. He’s still aroused. If I don’t watch it, we could get carried away and he’d be inside me again. It would be so easy. It’s always easy between Spence and me—until it’s not. “Let me get a washcloth. I’ll clean you up.”
“No.” I shake my head, my hair brushing against his face, and he pushes it away. “Just—let me lie here and close my eyes. It’ll only be for a few minutes.”
“Okay.” He kisses my temple, his lips lingering. I feel him breathe me in, as if he’s savoring my scent, and my heart, I swear to God, it cracks.
Wide open, spilling all of my pent-up emotions out. Everywhere. I could bleed out in this bed and die in this boy’s arms, and no one would question it. Least of all me. He kills me in the absolute sweetest way. Eventually, I’m going to hurt him, and he’s going to hate me. I’ll have to live with myself for that, whether I like it or not.
We say nothing, the quietness of his apartment momentarily lulling me to sleep. Until I startle awake what feels like only minutes later, though I’m clueless to the time. The room is dark. I can hear the city noise outside in the distance. The honk of a horn. The wail of a siren.
I need to go.
Staying still, I hone in on Spence’s steady breathing. It’s slow and deep. He’s fast asleep. He’s always been able to fall asleep quickly.
I envy him that.
Carefully, so I don’t disturb him, I slip out of bed, turning back to look at him one last time before I go.
He’s lying on his side, the blanket drawn up to his waist, his eyes closed and his lips parted. He looks so peaceful. So beautiful. His dark brown hair tumbles across his forehead, and I long to push it back. Kiss his forehead. Breathe him in much like he did to me earlier.
Whisper that I love him.
I do none of that. I stare at him for a moment longer, trying to imprint this moment on my brain for future memories, and then I flee the bedroom, running down the hall naked, going into the kitchen in search of my coat. I snatch it up from the floor and slip it on, stepping right onto the glass I broke with a wince, biting my lip so I don’t cry out.
There’s no time for me to pull glass out of my foot, though I do brush at it quickly. I slip into my stiletto sandals, tie the coat belt tight around my waist once more, and check the pocket for my phone.
Pulling it out, I note the time on the screen, worry flashing through me. I’ve been gone longer than anticipated.
Mother might be in search of me.
Fear floods me and I ignore the notifications on my phone, shoving it back into my coat pocket. I scurry out of his apartment, slowly pulling the door closed. I take the elevator down to the ground floor, waving at the doorman I bribed earlier with his favorite cookies from a nearby bakery, exiting the building in a blur.
I’ve visited Spence enough over the years for the doorman to recognize me, but I always like to give him a little treat for never giving me any trouble.
Only when I’m in the back seat of my car and on my way home, do I feel brave enough to check my phone’s notifications. There’s a text from Mother.
Of course, there is.
Come home now.