Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Adult.
Earned.
Reid stretches out beside me, his fingertips skating across my ribs. I shiver, not from cold, but from anticipation. From the quiet power of being seen like this.
I press my hand over his thumping heart. “I’m going to admit something to you that might make me seem like a horrible person, but I want you to know that I missed this.”
Reid’s eyes come to mine and he blinks, confusion written on his face. “Missed this?”
My cheeks flush with the pending admission. “Just that one time with you… it changed me. Knowing what I had even for a singular night, and then I didn’t have it anymore… I missed it. It was an intimacy I’ve never experienced before, and I’m trying to figure out whatever we are and how I can hold on to it.”
“We’re figuring it out,” he says. Then his lips are on my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder. “But I know I’ve wanted you for a long time. And after our one night together, I thought about it more than I should have.”
My body arches toward his, seeking more. His hands slide down my sides and when he undoes the button of my shorts, I lift my hips so he can ease them down. It takes no thought at all to surrender to him. The way he looks at me… like I’m a present he’s wanted to unwrap for years.
My own hands find the waistband of his joggers, tugging them down with far less patience. I need him close. I need the press of his body, the heat of his skin, the proof that this isn’t some fantasy playing tricks on me.
We move together like we’ve done this a hundred times before, like every space between us was designed to be filled by the other. He touches me with care, with confidence, and I can’t stop the soft moan that escapes when his fingers find the spot that makes my breath hitch.
“Lara,” he murmurs, like my name is the answer to a question he’s carried for too long.
I pull him down to me, our mouths meeting again, hands tangled, skin slick with desire. When he finally pushes into me, I feel everything—every beat of the past, every second we lost, every piece of me waking back up.
We find a rhythm quickly—easy, fluid, slow at first, then building with every gasp and stuttered breath. My nails rake gently down his back. His hand curls under my knee, angling me closer, deeper.
There’s nothing else in the world. Just this. Just him. Just us.
When the release comes, it crashes over me like a tide, robbing me of my breath as I drown in ecstasy. Reid follows, a groan buried in my neck, his body tight against mine as he falls with me.
After, we lie tangled in the sheets, breathless and dazed. His thumb brushes circles over my hip. My head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat beneath my ear.
Neither of us speaks for a long time.
Eventually, he kisses the top of my head. “Still not a dream.”
I smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I’m liking this reality.”
Silence envelops us and my mind starts whirring. We haven’t moved. Not really. Just shifted enough to breathe easier. One of his legs is still entwined with mine, his fingers lazily stroking my forearm.
I stare at the rise and fall of his chest, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you think less of me?”
His hand pauses. “What?”
I try to push away the guilt. “For jumping from Lance to you so fast. It’s barely been a week. Hell, less than that.” I close my eyes, the sting of shame creeping in. “I’m one of those women people whisper about. Like I couldn’t be alone for five seconds, so I just fell into the next guy’s bed.”
Reid shifts to roll to his side and face me fully. His hand grips my jaw, forcing me to hold his gaze.
“Lara,” he says softly, “you didn’t fall into anything. You made a choice.”
“I just feel…” I swallow. “Gross. Like I should’ve had more time to—I don’t know—process, or grieve, or whatever the hell people do after ending an engagement. Not this.”
His brow furrows. “You didn’t leave Lance for me. You left Lance for you. For your safety. Your sanity. You chose to get out of something that was slowly breaking you down. That’s not shameful. That’s brave.”
“But still,” I whisper. “This happened so fast… you and me.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “No, it didn’t. It started when we kissed at fifteen, and it bloomed again after we had sex that one time. You and me? We’ve been a long time coming.”
I blink at him.
He continues. “We’ve had years of history building up to this moment. Years of looks and laughs and something we never touched because the timing was always shit. But not anymore. And I’m not going to pretend this is wrong just because you had to make a hard, necessary exit from something toxic.”