Page 64 of Borrowed Pain
"I told myself it was because I chose partners who weren't the family type. The truth is, I was terrified someone's family would see through me."
"See through you to what?"
"To the fact that I don't know how to be someone worth keeping around. I know how to be useful, but I don't know how to be loved just for existing."
The vulnerability in his voice slipped past all of my defenses.
"We're both in completely uncharted territory, aren't we?" I whispered.
"Completely." Our breaths mingled in the small space between us. "I don't have a map for this, Miles."
"You think I do?"
We stared at each other. It felt like the first honest conversation I'd had about my relationships in years. I knew how to be honest with clients. Turning the mirror on myself was something else entirely.
"So what now?" I asked.
He flashed a small smile. "Now we stop discussing whether this is a good idea and start figuring out how to make it work."
"That sounds impressively practical."
"That might be one of my strengths." His thumb traced my collarbone through my shirt.
I looked at him, how he sat cross-legged on the rumpled comforter, hair mussed from running his hands through it during Ma's interrogation. His shirt hung loose from his jeans.
I whispered, "I know how to start."
"How?"
I crawled into his lap, legs wrapping around him, feeling the mattress dip under our weight. Rowan's hands hovered at my waist as if waiting for approval. I reached out and wrapped my hands behind his neck, pulling him forward for a kiss.
"You sure?" he whispered, the words a shiver against my lips.
Part of me thought: this was too easy. Real relationships cracked under less, but I kissed him anyway, needing the illusion of simplicity for once.
We parted our lips, and our tongues danced in an ungraceful but honest way. He tasted like a combination of wine and my mother's famous sauce.
We kissed so hard I couldn't breathe. I had to pull back and laugh into his collarbone.
"Matthew and Dorian are in the next room," he said.
"They know we're adults. Are you scared?"
He considered. "Not yet."
I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. My fingers playfully walked down the center of his chest as his breathing turned quick and shallow. He caught my wrist when they reached his waistband, holding it there.
I bit my lip while he searched my face for a second or two, and then he let go and unbuttoned my shirt. We were both mostly clothed, but the conversation had broken me open.
We kissed again, a little more frantically. He lay back and pulled me down on top of him, our hips grinding together. He was already hard. I was, too.
Somewhere in the hallway, Charlie's claws clattered, and Rowan chuckled. We laughed in each other's arms until something snapped. I awkwardly wriggled out of my shirt, and so did he.
His hands slid beneath the waistband of my pants and cupped my ass. I moaned as he rolled me onto my back.
We stared at each other for a moment, faces inches apart. I hooked a finger in his belt loop and tugged him close enough to grind up against him.
His fingers moved to my fly, unzipped it, and his knuckles brushed against bare flesh just above my boxer briefs, sending a shiver down my legs. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans.
