Because the truth was, Aaliyah wasn’t for him.
No woman was.
He couldn’t risk making a connection again like he had with Jackie.
As the panic rose, he pulled in a breath and caught Liyah’s unique, subtle scent. Whatever she wore. Her lotion or a perfume. Maybe her soap.
Mixed with her arousal.
From her orgasm.
No,orgasms. She had more than one.
Even as awkward as this whole thing had been, she managed to find some satisfaction. However, he was damn well sure she was still disappointed.
As was he.
Not only for his less than stellar performance, but in himself.
For not being strong enough to resist.
For wanting this woman as much as he did.
Gritting his teeth, he secured the condom at the root of his cock and pulled out. He kept his head down as he removed the prophylactic and yanked up his jeans to secure his cock.
“Going to clean up,” he muttered and spun on his boot heel. Striding across the room, he paused only to snag his hat from where it fell before continuing into her bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
He tossed the spent condom into the trash and turned to use the sink…
Only to be met by someone he didn’t recognize.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked.
That stranger didn’t answer.
He set his jaw and washed his hands, unable to look that person in the eyes.
He couldn’t face the judgement.
He also avoided Aaliyah’s when he left the bathroom.
Instead, he simply grumbled, “Gotta go,” and rushed out of the room, not waiting to hear her response.
Like a goddamn coward.
Because that was who he was.
A goddamn broken coward.
The hallway had become a narrow tunnel funneling him toward the exit.
He saw nothing around him except his escape.
The burn in his chest spread to his gut.
It wasn’t heartburn.
It was guilt.