Page 99 of Counting On You

I want her bad, but something’s keeping me back.

Is this really a good idea?

I wet my lips, angry at that unreasonable part of me that keeps hesitating, dragging this out.

“You really want us to break the rules?” I ask.

“They’re only rules.”

She leans over me. Before I realize what she’s doing, her fingers are busy unbuttoning my jeans.

“Are you saying you don’t want to?” she whispers, her fingers coming dangerously close to the bulge I haven’t been able to get rid of since the first moment I saw her.

Groaning, I close my eyes, feeling the familiar spin in my head.

She’s about to do things to me that are far too familiar. Memories of my past experiences with women begin to flicker before my eyes. I can feel the usual rush of excitement.

There’s no going back now.

I’m a lost cause. She knows it. We both do.

“I want you to fuck me, Kade. I’m not asking you. I’m demanding that you do.” Her tone is impatient, shaking with nerves.

“You know it’s not going to mean anything?”

“Kade.” She shakes her head and lets out a sharp breath. “I know what I’m getting into. Trust me. I’m not like your other conquests. I won’t try to keep in touch after we’re out of here. Unless you’re my sponsor, which I hope you won’t be.”

She’s not like my other conquests at all.

Maybe that’s why her words sting.

That’s the thing. I want her to keep in touch. I want to see more of her, whatever the fuck that might mean. Maybe I’ll keep her in my life as a friend. I’ve never met a woman with whom I can converse so easily. Yet, at the same time the thought of seeing her after this is over scares me. I don’t want a relationship with her, but I also don’t want to never see her again. I want more of her, while at the same time I don’t want to hurt her, because that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

My conflicting emotions confuse me.

My own body confuses me.

I’m attracted to her while being repulsed by the idea of knowing I could hurt her. Like I hurt all those other women I fucked.

It’s not at all like me to stop and ponder. The old me would have jumped right into bed with her. Heck, I would not even have needed a bed. A table, blanket, shower, closet—whatever—would have sufficed.

But the new me is considering, wondering, fearing.

Vicky leans forward, her mouth descending onto my dick.

I can’t say no tothat.

A groan escapes my lips.

Of course, I can’t say no.

Not with those gorgeous lips ready to suck and lick. Not when I want her to do just that—desperately.

I lick my lips, feeling another shudder. She won’t stop. I know it. Sooner or later, probably sooner than anticipated, she’ll make me lose control.

I can feel the heat and the tug in my balls.

“Jesus, Vicky.” I groan again.

---