tongue over it.
It was not how I’d ever imagined our reunion to be, and I’d thought about it plenty. But if she kept rubbing her thumb over the hot skin of my abdomen, I was going to press her against the wall of this cheap, ugly building and fuck her here and now, outside, in the cold night.
I didn’t give a flying fuck who might see. I didn’t care about anything but Adele.
I managed two staggering steps, her tight, sweet ass clutched in greedy fingers. Then she gasped against my mouth, and I felt her entire body tighten.
Placing her hands against my chest, she let her weight drop. She was small, but I couldn’t hold on to her without her participation.
Back on her own two feet, she looked up at me with wide eyes, the tips of her fingers pressed to her lips. I watch those fingers tremble, the movement cast in the silver of twilight.
“I’m not ready. I’m sorry.” Then she was gone, running like the demons of hell were after her.
After a moment in which I watched with stupefied amazement at her sudden change in demeanor, I started after her, hanging back half a block so as not to crowd her.
She’d clearly survived just fine without me, but I still wasn’t comfortable letting her run off into the night when she was obviously upset.
I watched until she pushed through the door of the coffee shop where she’d said she worked; I remembered it well, had spent a lot of money on coffee there as an undergrad.
If that was where Adele now worked, then I’d still spend a lot of money there.
Knowing she’d found a sanctuary of sorts—sanctuary from me —I stuffed my hands into my pockets and headed back to my apartment. I hoped like hell that Dorian wasn’t going to want to talk about our feelings, or some shit like that.
Apart from the bliss of having had Adele in my arms again, and the frustration of not knowing how to earn her trust, I was confused as all hell as I recalled her parting words.
I’m not ready. I’m sorry
Why on earth would she feel like she needed to be sorry about that?
ADELE
I curled up on one of the couches in Java the Hut, feeling more than a little bit crazy. I still wore the little shorts from practice, and I was cold, even with my fingers wrapped tightly around the pumpkin spice latte that Meg had made for me, no questions asked, when I’d burst through the front doors like a crazy person.
I could have gone home. Probably should have. But for the first time in months, I hadn’t wanted to be alone.
Damn it, but Mal could still kiss. If anything, he’d learned a trick or two—or maybe it was because he was no longer so tentative. No longer a boy.
No, he was definitely all man now. Pure man, and he still wanted me.
Despite our past, I wanted him. Now that I’d seen him again, now that he’d explained, I found that the anger I’d held onto over the years had vanished like it never existed.
We’d been young. He’d been uncertain. I’d been hot tempered. Looking back now, it seemed so silly.
My apprehension sprang entirely from me, from my issues. From the event that I still had to work every day to forget.
“Damn.” Sighing, I leaned back against the worn couch, looking back to the counter where Meg was wrapping up the day old muffins and scones, to be discounted in the morning. She winked at me but left me alone, which told me that I looked like hell.
The shiny bottle of liqueurs that we kept in a colorful row to make
It was not how I’d ever imagined our reunion to be, and I’d thought about it plenty. But if she kept rubbing her thumb over the hot skin of my abdomen, I was going to press her against the wall of this cheap, ugly building and fuck her here and now, outside, in the cold night.
I didn’t give a flying fuck who might see. I didn’t care about anything but Adele.
I managed two staggering steps, her tight, sweet ass clutched in greedy fingers. Then she gasped against my mouth, and I felt her entire body tighten.
Placing her hands against my chest, she let her weight drop. She was small, but I couldn’t hold on to her without her participation.
Back on her own two feet, she looked up at me with wide eyes, the tips of her fingers pressed to her lips. I watch those fingers tremble, the movement cast in the silver of twilight.
“I’m not ready. I’m sorry.” Then she was gone, running like the demons of hell were after her.
After a moment in which I watched with stupefied amazement at her sudden change in demeanor, I started after her, hanging back half a block so as not to crowd her.
She’d clearly survived just fine without me, but I still wasn’t comfortable letting her run off into the night when she was obviously upset.
I watched until she pushed through the door of the coffee shop where she’d said she worked; I remembered it well, had spent a lot of money on coffee there as an undergrad.
If that was where Adele now worked, then I’d still spend a lot of money there.
Knowing she’d found a sanctuary of sorts—sanctuary from me —I stuffed my hands into my pockets and headed back to my apartment. I hoped like hell that Dorian wasn’t going to want to talk about our feelings, or some shit like that.
Apart from the bliss of having had Adele in my arms again, and the frustration of not knowing how to earn her trust, I was confused as all hell as I recalled her parting words.
I’m not ready. I’m sorry
Why on earth would she feel like she needed to be sorry about that?
ADELE
I curled up on one of the couches in Java the Hut, feeling more than a little bit crazy. I still wore the little shorts from practice, and I was cold, even with my fingers wrapped tightly around the pumpkin spice latte that Meg had made for me, no questions asked, when I’d burst through the front doors like a crazy person.
I could have gone home. Probably should have. But for the first time in months, I hadn’t wanted to be alone.
Damn it, but Mal could still kiss. If anything, he’d learned a trick or two—or maybe it was because he was no longer so tentative. No longer a boy.
No, he was definitely all man now. Pure man, and he still wanted me.
Despite our past, I wanted him. Now that I’d seen him again, now that he’d explained, I found that the anger I’d held onto over the years had vanished like it never existed.
We’d been young. He’d been uncertain. I’d been hot tempered. Looking back now, it seemed so silly.
My apprehension sprang entirely from me, from my issues. From the event that I still had to work every day to forget.
“Damn.” Sighing, I leaned back against the worn couch, looking back to the counter where Meg was wrapping up the day old muffins and scones, to be discounted in the morning. She winked at me but left me alone, which told me that I looked like hell.
The shiny bottle of liqueurs that we kept in a colorful row to make
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