Everything reminded me of her, and it was impossible not to think about her when her presence was still heavy in the walls. Sasha and I stayed down the hall because I couldn’t fuck her in the bed I used to make love to London in. Just couldn’t do it. “I haven’t slept in here since you left.” I turned my back and unfastened my watch, an excuse to hide my face. My expression remained stoic, but my eyes always gave me away.
“Then where have you been sleeping?”
“Down the hall.”
Silence followed my words. London didn’t speak again, probably because she didn’t know how to respond. I never told her how devastated I was when she left because I wouldn’t even admit to myself that I was in pain. That was the biggest confession I ever could have made, that I missed her so much I didn’t want to tarnish my last good memory of her.
She came up behind me and rested her face against the area between my shoulder blades. “Why?”
It was a stupid question because she knew the answer. I couldn’t fuck another woman on a bed I considered holy. I couldn’t brush my teeth and not expect to see her reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t open a drawer and be indifferent to her panties and socks sitting on top. But I didn’t say any of that. I gave the simplest response. “Because I loved you just as much when you were gone as I did when you were here.”
She pressed a kiss against my skin, her soft lips sticking to my body like glue. She left her mouth there for a few seconds before she pulled away, keeping her hands on my triceps. “Crewe…” She rested her forehead against my back, her breathing uneven. “I missed you so much. When you told me we were done…I was devastated.”
Initially, her tears had made me happy. I’d wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me. But now I didn’t ever want to cause her pain. “I was just angry.”
“I know that now.” Her arms circled my waist as her face remained against my back. “When I went back to New York, it didn’t feel the same. Nothing had changed. The crowds were the same, the buildings were the same, my morning coffee tasted the same…but everything was different. I tried dating, but I never liked anyone. When I touched myself, I thought about you…”
I closed my eyes at her confession, picturing my woman touching herself and thinking about me. I’d witnessed it before, and it was definitely the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I’d touched that clit a hundred times, but I loved watching her do it herself.
“What do we do now?” she whispered.
“About?”
“My living situation, Ariel…everything.”
We’d just walked in the door, and I certainly didn’t have a plan. “Ariel will know before she gets here tomorrow. The only reason she doesn’t know now is because she’s asleep. I’ll handle her.”
“Would it help if I spoke to her?”
It’d just make it worse. “Unlikely.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
I turned around, feeling her arms snake around my body as I moved. My hand moved into her hair, my favorite place to grab her. With a slight tug, I arranged her face exactly where I wanted it, her mouth easily accessible. “Fuck me.” One of the things I missed most was waking up to her riding me in the morning. Sometimes I woke up to her mouth around my dick, and that was just as good. She was talented at taking the reins, being in charge of my fantasies. She had a confidence unlike any other.
She held my gaze as her hands moved to my belt and stripped it away. She didn’t kiss me, but this was just as intense. I felt the belt slide out of my loops and hit the floor next to my feet. Her hands undid my fly and buttons next, getting me free from the material.
Her hand wrapped around my length, and she stroked it without blinking.
My hand loosened from her strands, but my eyes didn’t leave her face.
She finally rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my mouth, a light one that lacked tongue. She purposely kept her distance, wanting to keep our eyes focused on each other instead of our mouths.
She pivoted me toward the bed then pushed me, making my body fall back and land on the bed.
The only reason why I moved was because I fell before she