Page 72 of A Little Moore Action
“Fuck work right now.” I’m a sadist. I have to be. It’s the only reason I can think of that I’m pushing this right now. Pushing her. “It doesn’t matter.” Even I know I’m lying. Both of us need Moore’s to be successful. I just don’t know what else to say to make her realize thatwematter just as much. No.More.
“We can’t… we just can’t do this. Not anymore. It’s not smart.” Shuffling on her hands and knees, she grabs her panties off the floor. They’re ripped and useless.
Kind of like my heart.
Her skirt is still rucked up, her ass exposed, and in this position, I can see my cum sliding down her thigh.
She pauses, looking down at the wetness coating her thighs.
I rub my palm down my face. “Fuck, no condom. I didn’t think—”
She holds up her hand, silencing me. Grimacing, she uses her torn panties to wipe at the mess. “It should be fine.” She takes a few deep breaths, as if counting each exhale. “I have an IUD.” Once clean, she struggles to her feet, smoothing down her skirt.
“I’m sorry.” Just one more thing I’ve messed up.
“Don’t be.” Over and over again, she runs her empty hand down her skirt, not meeting my eyes. “This was my fault. My mistake.”
Mistake. Yeah, I’ve been called that before. But it’s never quite sliced through me like it does now, coming from the woman I love.
And that’s the moment I give up all pretense of being charming and cool. Give up deflecting with humor and protecting myself by not saying exactly what I want. Because I love her. And she’s worth it.
There, on my knees, dick out and still wet from her orgasm, I simply say it. The one thing I’ve been holding back.
“I love you.”
TWENTY-THREE
Bell
My eyes jerk to his.“Wh—what?” There’s no hiding my shock. Or the wonder that coats my voice. “You… love me?”
Chase tucks himself back into his pants and rises. Slowly. Like he’s approaching a wounded, wild animal.
In a way, he is.
“Yes, Bell. I do.”
I shake my head, just as slowly as his movements. “But it’s only been—”
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice is harder, firmer, grounding me in the moment.
And yet I’m quiet. Processing what his words mean. To me. To us.
He must take my silence for uncertainty because he changes his approach; his tone lightens, his posture loosens. “Hey, what’s that old adage? When you know, you know?” He pauses, his eyes meeting mine for one intense moment. “Well, I know.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, when we both know it’s averybig deal.
I fight the heat rising in my eyes. I’m being ridiculous. Crying when a man tells you he loves you? What’s wrong with me?
But… how can I trust this? Him. When everyone I’ve ever loved has left. Just, poof, gone.
I start at the sudden realization.
The tears are running down my cheeks.
Chase gathers me in his arms. “Hey now.”
Is that the real reason I don’t open up? That I shut down when people want to get close to me? Because I’m afraid they’ll leave?
That isn’t fair or rational. My parents didn’tchooseto leave. Death is an inevitable part of life. Hell, even my dog dying had been inevitable.
