Page 55 of Resilient Love

“That wanker that grabbed you the other day…” he trails off, refusing to meet my eyes. It’s a shame, really, because ifhe bothered to look at me, he’d see the absolutely massive grin stretching my lips till my cheeks ache.

“Are youjealous?” I ask, eyes wide.

“No,” he rumbles, voice low. “I’m merely a concerned citizen. I don’t appreciate women getting snatched.”

“Tell me you’re jealous and I’ll explain who he is and why you havenothingto worry about.”

He drags in an exasperated breath, finally meeting my eyes. “Fine. Iwasa tad green.”

I can’t resist the urge, squeezing his cheeks until his lips pucker like a fish, giddiness spilling into my actions, my body vibrating with the unfamiliar feeling. He places his hands over mine, pulling them from his cheeks to settle in his lap.

“Go on then,” he urges.

“That tosser was Noah. He’s about the blandest person on the planet, with a less than satisfactory prick, to boot. We’ve shagged on a few occasions, never without someone else.” His brows climb at that, but I continue, leaving no room for more of his prying questions. “He started pressing me about spending time with me outside of our extracurriculars, and I have no interest in doing any of those things with him.” The unspoken part being that for some ungodly reason, Idohave an interest in spending time with Rafael outside of sex—exhibit A would be our current predicament. “He’s about as interesting on the inside as he is on the outside, and as you’d seen, he looks no different than the crumbs at the bottom of a box of crackers. Pale and unsustaining.”

Rafa’s smirk says it all, so instead of adding to my assessment of my past lay, he says, “Let’s get this essay over with so we can do better things with our time, yeah?” He sets the laptop over my thighs but with the screen facing him, typing all of my ideas, running through every thought I have for the assignment. His fingers fly across the keyboard, and by the time the sun has set,we’ve had our fill of salmon, salad, and pasta, and I’ve submitted the essay.

Rafael shuts my laptop and sets it on the wrought iron side table, lowering himself further into the cushions and shifting my body so we’re lying lengthwise on the couch, facing each other.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and trails a rough hand down my side, settling it over my hip where the bottom of my sweatshirt has ridden up.

“Are you ready for your reward?” he asks, his voice quiet and husky. The sound sends a shiver down my spine, and I arch into his touch. His low answering chuckle is the only sound as he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of my leggings. “I take that as a yes?” he asks, his brow quirked, and I nod my agreement.

My lips part, resting my thigh over his as he works his fingers under my cotton thong and over my clit. I feel my pulse beating between my legs, and a whimper falls past my lips.

“You were so good today, baby,” he says, and I preen under his praise. “You played so well and then got to work like such a fucking good girl.” His words are barely above a whisper, and while I’m someone who doesn’t tend to love the tender touches or soft, whispered words, I want all of it withhim.

The way his dark eyes hold my gaze makes the moment even more intimate, and when he slips a finger inside me, I’m already soaked.

“I’msoproud of you,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine as I stay locked in his gaze. “I’m proud of you for accepting help, and I’m glad I could give that to you. But I’m not such a good boy,” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave. I want to say something, but I can’t manage through the blinding pleasure building in my core.

“H-how?” I stammer.

“Because,” he says, lowering his lips to my neck, tugging the skin between his teeth as he slips another finger inside me and I cry out, loudly. The sound of my strangled moans startles even me. When he rests his forehead against mine again, he spreads his fingers wide, just the way he now knows I like, and I nearly shatter. But what really does me in is what he says next. “This whole time I’ve been helping you, I’ve beensoselfish, Elise, baby. I’ve been waiting for this moment. For us to finish your essay so I could bury my fingers inside you, and the only thing better than that will be when I get to suck you off of them.”

I buck against him, his fingers pumping inside me as he presses the flat of his thumb against my clit. A hot fire licks up my spine, and Rafael devours the sounds I make with his lips pressed to mine, his fingers stroking my walls relentlessly until I’ve spilled every ounce of my pleasure onto his fingers. My body sags further into the cushions, and he slides a hand around my back, tugging me to his chest before he removes his hand from my pussy.

My eyes flutter open, and I watch with rapt attention as he sucks those fingers into his mouth. He moans deeply, his chest rumbling as he cleans his fingers of my juices.

“God, you taste delicious.” He groans.

And I die. Right here on his couch. I simply pass away from how annoyingly hot that was. My body burned to ash, or at least,that’s certainly what it feels like.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

TUESDAY, MAY 13

“And you’resure you don’t want to spend the night? Or I could drive you home?” I ask, reluctant to let her leave me.

She rewards me with a lopsided grin, her dimple winking at me as she leans in to kiss me, squeezing my bicep. “I’m sure,” she says. “But it’s not because I don’t want to be here. It’s because I have an early class in the morning, and frankly, I feel like I’m growing a little too attached to you, too quickly, and I need the space to gather my emotions and not run the risk of falling into something that neither of us is comfortable with. Does that make sense?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

It does, actually, and something buried inside my chest that warms with her explanation. I hate being in the dark withpeople. “Yeah, it does. And that’s okay,” I tell her, pressing my lips to hers another time as I prepare myself to watch her walk out this door. “Thank you for letting me in on your thought process.”

She gives me a small smile, her cheeks flushing a light pink. “I’ve lost too many people wishing I’d had the opportunity to tell them how I felt just one last time. That’s why I’m often brutally honest, and unfortunately for those on the other end of it, I don’t hold back. Though I’m pretty shit at putting the way I feel into the right words. I do my best, but lately, between my impending graduation, adjusting to having a new coach, trying to solidify my chances at having a football career, and realising I’m attracted to my coach, well, let’s just say I’ve been taking the piss out of the whole open and honest thing.”

I clutch her against my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist as she sighs against me. Her phone pings in her pocket, and she checks it, peering back up at me with those baby blues. “My ride’s here,” she says, grabbing her backpack.

“Goodnight, Elise. And for what it’s worth, you’re showing me that good things can come out of proper communication, and I’m glad we’re on the same page,” I tell her.

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