Page 112 of Love Bites

“I feel disgusting after being there during the fight, so I think I’m going to shower,” I said, releasing his hand and heading for the bathroom.

“I’ll join you.” He tossed his phone onto the bed and followed me.

“Is this a thing we do now?” I teased, slipping my shirt over my head.

“I hope so.” He skimmed his hands over the bare curve of my waist before finding the buckle on the back of my bra and unhooking it. The fabric fell away, and he tugged it down my arms, baring me further.

My eyes closed as his hands moved over my breasts, teasing my nipples.

His lips brushed the side of my throat lightly.

My stomach tightened as thoughts about my realizations earlier came to mind.

My feelings.

His emotions.

All the uncomfortable things I didn’t want to discuss, but needed to.

Letting out a soft breath, I opened my eyes. “Hey, Damian?”

“Mmhm?” His eyes were on his hands, on my breasts.

“I think we should talk tonight, instead of screwing.”

He blinked, then met my gaze. “Talk about what?”

Some inner part of me cringed, but I forced myself to say the word. “Us.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so.”

He dipped his head. “Then we’ll talk. But I’m still going to play with your nipples.”

A quick laugh escaped me, and his lips curved upward.

We finished stripping, and stepped into the shower together. His hands were on my body almost the entire time we were beneath the water, touching me and teasing me while I washed. Knowing he wasn’t trying to turn me on, but just wanted to feel my skin, did strange things to my stomach.

By the time we stepped out, I was even more nervous than earlier.

What if he wasn’t ready to acknowledge his emotions?

What if he didn’t even realize he felt them?

What if he just wanted our relationship to revolve around sex, and I screwed everything up?

Shit, maybe I’d made the wrong choice.

I reached for one of my oversized sleep shirts, but he grabbed one of his t-shirts off a hanger and tugged it over my head before I got the chance.

“No panties allowed,” he said, pulling my hair out from beneath the hem of the shirt.

“Maybe we should just have sex after all, and talk another time?” I suggested.

He finished freeing my hair and grabbed a pair of his underwear. “No. We’re not avoiding the conversation if there’s something you want to talk about.”

I sighed, but didn’t argue.

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