Page 96 of Full Service

It makes total sense.

I can envision everything crystal clear.

“You shouldn’t have given Lee hope,” Silas says as soon as we’re back at his place, the door shut, the lights turned on.

I shrug and pull my sweatshirt off, tossing it onto the couch, and then toe off my shoes.

“Meh, it’s fine. I mean, would it be the worst to marry me?” I eye him and watch as Silas’s eyes swivel down my chest, landing on the zipper of my jeans.

His tongue peeks out and he wets those pink, plump lips.

“It would be terrible. Terrible for my health.”

“Yeah, okay, old man. What if I’m good for your health? I rejuvenate you.”

Silas huffs and takes a step toward me. “You do offer a variety of cardio options.”

“I’m very good for your heart.”

Not sure if he’s good for mine, to be honest. He isn’t taking this whole thing very seriously. But to be fair, I haven’t been taking it seriously either. Not until today. When I saw him up there on stage, shaking that ass just to make my grandpa happy, I knew I wanted more than just casual.

Not sure if he feels the same way though.

I’ve never had my heart broken before. I don’t want to start now. Seems quite dull and boring, really.

“You are very, very good for my heart,” Silas says, his breath hitting my cheek as he runs his nose along my jaw. “You make it pound so incredibly fast. It’s like running a marathon. I’ll have a six-pack by the time this is done.”

I groan as his fingers push into my hair, his lips meeting mine. Our tongues tangle, the two of us grinding up against each other until I finally pull away.

“I… Oh god, Silas. You’re so fucking hot. But wait. Wait.”

He clutches me to him, his fingers digging into my skin, almost trying to pull me into him, but I resist. Suddenly needing to know. I need to know.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice rough.

I suddenly feel nervous, adrift. How the hell do I bring this up? What the hell do I say?

“What…” I wet my lips nervously. “What are we?”

Silas’s eyes darken and his fingers tighten on me.

“We?”

“Yeah, you know…this. What is this?”

“Sex,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “A lot of sex.”

For some reason, that doesn’t delight me to no end like it should. I love sex, don’t get me wrong, but I want this to be more. Never in my life have I wanted more, until now.

“What’s wrong? What’s with that face?” he asks.

“Nothing. It’s… I was hoping for more.”

“More?”

He looks genuinely perplexed. That’s not a good sign. I know I don’t scream commitment, but fuck, shouldn’t he want to keep me? Even just a little bit?

“Yeah. More.”

---