Page 30 of Please Don't Leave Me

I try not to think about the fact that there was a “last guy” she had over here. I know she’s been seeing other people because she told me, but that’s not really what I want to be thinking about right now. I can tell she regrets saying it, and she quickly pivots by offering me some wine.

We eat the Indian food I picked up on my way here and chat about this and that. When we finish, she carries the dishes to the kitchen, and I pack up the leftovers and put them in her fridge, which is organized to a T. No surprise there.

Now we’re sitting next to each other on the couch, finishing the bottle of wine she opened, and I just want to be closer to her. But at this point, we’ve been sitting here for a little while, and I can’t find a good excuse to get closer to her.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”

“No problem. It’s the middle door down the hall.”

I set my wine glass down and walk to the bathroom. It’s just as tidy as the rest of her place. There's a painting of the ocean hanging on the wall. The signature in the bottom corner is barely legible, but after a second, I can make out the name Eden Blake. Her mother, I remember. She’s very talented. I flush the toilet and wash my hands to make it sound like I actually had to use the bathroom.

“Did your mom do that painting in the bathroom?”

“She did. She paints a lot during her summers off.”

“It’s really good. Do you do any art?”

“I draw from time to time, but B is way more artistic than I am.”

When I get to the couch, I make an effort to sit asclose to her as possible without it being weird. My leg grazes her bent knee on my way down, and I make no effort to move it once I’m seated. Neither does she.

“Where were we?”

I lean in a little closer. “I think you were just about to spill all your deepest, darkest secrets to me.”

She narrows her eyes at me and smirks. “I don’t think so, Mr. Smart Ass. You’re not going to get secrets out of me that easily.”

“Worth a shot.”

Her tongue peeks out, wetting her soft lips, and she bites her lower lip for a brief moment.

“I think you were about to kiss me.” It was a bold move, but I’m dying to feel her lips, and I think she wants it, too.

“Oh, was I? I thought you were going to kissme?”

I take her wine glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table. Then I adjust myself on the couch and lean over; she meets me halfway. I cup the side of her head with one hand and put the other on her inner thigh.

Our lips are so close I can feel her warm breath on mine. I lick my lips to wet them and press them to hers. They’re so soft and warm. She parts her lips for me and makes a small moaning noise when I sweep my tongue across hers.

That moan sends me into another gear, and I wrap my hand around the outside of her thigh and pull her onto my lap. Both my hands are on her ass now, and I give her a gentle squeeze. At that, she grinds her hips forward on my lap, makingmemoan this time. She’s so intoxicating and I want to pull her close enough that there’s no space left between us.

My hand migrates up under her shirt and explores the soft skin of her back. She leans forward into me, pressingher front flat against mine. I can feel her chest rising and falling against mine. We haven’t come up for air since our lips first touched, and I’m perfectly happy to suffocate under her like this.

LOUISA

I pull my lips away from his to catch my breath, and he immediately starts kissing down my neck to my collarbone and back up. I tilt my head, and his hand comes up to sweep my hair out of his way. His lips leave my skin wet and tingling with every kiss.

The sexual tension has been building between us for weeks now through messaging. I’m surprised we made it a whole afternoon of being around each other without a single kiss. But now, the dam has broken, and the floodgates are open. Figuratively and literally. I’m so wet I can feel myself soaking through my panties.

My hands explore his thick, curly hair, and I can tell he likes it by the little noises he’s making. His hands were exploring my back before resting on my waist. He subtly plays with the hem of my shirt. I nod, letting him know he can lift it up. But before he does, he pulls his lips from mine and looks at me. “You okay with this?”

I nod again, but he waits. “Yes,” I say, giving him the verbal approval he’s clearly waiting for.

I lift my arms to assist him, and he lifts my shirt off over my head. Typically, I would be self-conscious about being this exposed with all the lights on, but I don’t care. I just want him.

To even the score, I tug at the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. He’s solid muscle. I run my hands down hischest, over his abs, and then back up his arms, devouring him with my eyes. I press my body into his. The feeling of his skin on mine sets me on fire, and I just want to be closer to him.

“Do you want to go to my bedroom?”

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