Page 48 of The Truth of Our Past

The entire day created as much anticipation as foreplay. The light in his eyes, his excitement and wonder. His gratitude and affection. His lust for life.

The day did not prepare me for his visceral reactions and the effect it would have on me. And getting to witness his explosion of creativity was insane. Knowing I helped free his passion is intoxicating. I’m drunk on everything Von.

I left him at the restaurant last night because I was so conflicted. My trust took a huge hit and is slow to recover from his Page Seven outburst. His sincerity and offer to take me on a date overrode my instinct to reject him. I needed last night to get my head on straight.

I enjoy spending time with him, so I won’t second-guess my decision to keep seeing him.

His sex crisis of conscience was endearing and also disconcerting. Now that I have Von in my life, I can’t imagine not being friends with him. I’m not stupid. Sex could ruin it. Our sexuation is destined to burn to ash.

The ultimate outcome remains the same, but I’m not depriving either of us the opportunity to combust in a sex coma before that happens.

Assuming we’re spending the night together, I text Em to open the shop for me so I don’t have to rush out in the morning.

Von takes my hand and threads our fingers together while we’re turning the corner into the alley to the entrance to his loft. His long fingers slot perfectly with mine. His grip is strong and comforting.

I’ve never thought holding someone’s hand would increase the yearning of getting his body under mine, but it’s sexy as hell. I get the impression that Von would throw me into a fireman’s carry if he thought it would speed things along. The thought causes my steps to stutter, not because I don’t like the idea, but because I do.

Since my ex, I’ve never let anyone lead a sexual encounter. So it’s confusing that the thought of Von manhandling me would be fucking heaven. If we become a regular thing, maybe I’ll let him fuck me. Maybe.

Von keys in his code, ushers us inside, and presses me up against the wall as he pushes the button for the elevator. His body covers mine, but he pulls his head back so he’s staring into my eyes. Our breaths mingle and I can see his pulse throbbing in his neck. Before I can suck it, Von reads my mind and gives me better access. There are no doubts, only lust and aching desire.

Distantly, I realize we haven’t spoken a word since I told him we’re fucking. I’ve always been uncomfortable with silence, but it isn’t awkward with Von.

The elevator opens, and Von backs me into it. When I hit the wall, his lips ghost over mine. It’s not enough. I tip up for a proper kiss, but his body is pinning me in place.

“Are you okay?”

His sudden concern confuses me. “Besides the blue balls, fine.” His sharp angles and low brow don’t lift. “Why?”

“You haven’t said a word the entire walk back. Second thoughts?” He’s serious.

“Are you projecting?” I ask, fighting the urge to pull away.

“Alec, you’re never quiet. If you’re not talking, you’re humming or something.”

I felt we were communicating without words. Each expression, breath, and touch tells a story.

I want to read Von all night long.

But maybe this isn’t that for him.

“I was trying very hard to listen to what you were saying without words.” My head falls back and I’m suddenly nervous. Guys never make me nervous. “Your pace was telling me to hurry up and get my ass in gear. The glint in your eye said you were willing to make me move my ass, caveman style.”

Finally, his brow lifts, and the sharp line of his jaw relaxes.

“And your hand in mine was a promise,” I say, and Von’s eyes are molten ice.

The elevator doors open, but neither of us moves.

“Yes.” His lips ghost over mine with the word.

“Are you going to keep that promise or send me home with the aforementioned blue balls?” I hitch my hips up and he groans.

“You are such ajävlar.‘Aforementioned’ sounds too fancy to say with ‘blue balls.’” Von bends his knees and picks me up, ducking as we exit the elevator so I don’t hit my head. “I don’t know if I should spank you or kiss you into the mattress.” He sets me on my feet to open the door to his loft.

The vein has popped on his forehead and it gives me a thrill. We can still have the antagonizing banter and fuck. It’s the perfect combination.

“Viking, you say the sweetest things.” Mockingly, I fan myself to keep up the wisecracks and see how far I can push him.

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