“I’m not leaving,” I tell her, climbing up behind her and curling around her. Without her permission, I bend my knees beneath hers and stroke a hand up her spine and into her hair. The tension in her body radiates into my palm as my hand massages the base of her neck. Eventually she gives in to my fingertips, and my fingers move lower, working at her shoulder.
“Take this off,” I tell her, my voice low as I tug at the collar of her sweater.
She spins, staring at me over her shoulder, but then she sits up and removes it. I take the material and drape it over her like a blanket once she lies back on her side. I have better access to her skin now, and I continue my massage, willing her to relax under my touch.
Finally, I write on her skin with a rough fingertip, tracing the capital letter I along her back between her shoulder blades. Next, I form an L. Another I. Then a K, and an E. I pause after each letter, and Emily remains still. I have no idea if she has read the pressure of the letters, but I finish with Y, O, and U. Flattening my palm against her back, I think she’s asleep when I hear her whisper, “I like you, too.”
My arm wraps over her waist, and I draw her to me, feeling her shudder, knowing her tears fall. I press a kiss to her shoulder and hold her tighter.
“Sleep, baby,” I say, and eventually, she does.
+ + +
I wake to a delicate hand on my belly. I’ve been dozing under Emily’s warmth. She rolled in her sleep and ended up with her head in the crook of my arm. I’m on my back, and she’d eventually wrapped a leg over mine, nestled in closer and slipped her hand under my shirt, rubbing it over my abs and stopping mid-stomach. I’m hoping she finds comfort in me. I don’t mind her touch. I’m just fighting the desire for her to touch me in other places. My dick strains in my dress pants, and there is no disguising I’m freaking turned on like I haven’t been in years.
Slowly, she rouses, squirming next to me. Hitching her leg a little higher, she rustles her head deeper against my shoulder.
Then she jolts upright as if she’s had a bad dream, and I slowly follow. The sweater covering her as a blanket shifted to her side when she spun to me earlier, and at some point, she’d kicked off her shoes. I sit behind her, at her side, and press a kiss to her bare shoulder.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hey.” Her sleep-roughened, tearstained voice does nothing to ease the pressure in my pants. Damn, she’s so sexy, even hurting with a heartache like she is. “I’m sorry about that. I got a little carried away, I guess.”
I slowly smile, lower my head to her shoulder, and press my grin into her skin. “I didn’t mind it.” And I don’t. Her touch. Her warmth. Feeling like she needs me is doing something to me.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, knowing she’s still hurting.
“I’m okay,” she mutters, her voice still rugged and low.
Because you’re efficient? I want to tease, but I don’t.
“Tell me what I can do,” I say again because I feel helpless next to her, wanting to give her something. I already feel like I failed by not having that radio in time. I pull back so she can look in my eyes. I’ll do anything she asks of me right now. Or maybe it’s me who wants to ask? “Let me take it away for a little while.”
There’s a question in her eyes, but it doesn’t take long for her to read what I’m offering. I understand. Take what you need from me. Her head is so full while her heart is so broken, and she just needs to let it all go.
“Kiss me,” she whispers, and I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. Sweet. Tender. There’s no crash like the other times we’ve kissed. No clashing thunder or lightning strikes, only the delicacy of a summer rain shower, soft and lingering on our lips. However, it quickly turns deeper, darker, and full of yearning as her mouth moves against mine. She shifts her body, and I cup her cheek. The touch sparks and crackles ripple over my skin as they do when we meet like this. My body falls