Page 44 of Ours to Lose
She rolled her lips together as if still not sure she should let the words out. Then she released them in a rush. “I was thinking I might be able to figure out what I like withyou.”
It took me a second to process her meaning. “You want to have sex with me?”
She gave a faint nod.
My mind went fuzzy as if I’d been jabbed in the head, the ground no longer solid. That wasn’t where I’d expected this to go. Despite my head spinning, my body had no problem keeping up. My cock was half hard and getting harder each second she stared at me with that hopeful gaze.
There was uncertainty too, as if she was trying to figure out a way to undo saying it and pretend this never happened.
Which was the absolute last thing I wanted.
The first involved any of a dozen scenarios that had been playing through my head since I saw her in that dress.
“Would you…be open to it?” she asked, timid.
My answer would have been the same even if it weren’t for the vulnerability in her eyes. Seeing it just made me want this more.
I plucked the keys from her grasp and took her hand in mine. “You’re right. We should go upstairs.”
Aubrey ledthe way to the second floor and unlocked the door to her own little fairy garden. More kinds of plants than I could name filled the space, hanging from tall curtain rods and perched on her shelves. There were overhead lights that would flood the small apartment, but she flicked on a few lamps instead, adding to the glow of the white Christmas lights lining the high ceilings.
Anything not plants was color. The green velvet of her couch, the deep reds and purples of her rug, the warm amber of her furniture and bright fabrics of her throw pillows. Where the gym I slept in was faded and dull, this space overflowed with vibrance.
None of it was more breathtaking than the woman in front of me.
She took off my jacket then hers underneath, and hung them in the narrow closet off the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?” she offered. “I have wine or beer.”
“Water’s good.”
Tomorrow, I would have to get strict about my diet again. No more alcohol or rich restaurant meals. Not if I wanted a real shot at winning this tournament.
She avoided my gaze as she filled two gold-rimmed glasses from a pitcher and handed me one. Her own, she took to the coffee table and placed beside a vase of wildflowers before dropping onto the couch and tucking her legs under her. A fuzzy white pillow landed in her lap.
I wanted to join her on the couch, tug her to the cushions, and lick my way beneath her dress.
If I were honest with myself, I’d wanted it since long before tonight. Not even just since New Year’s.
Since all the way back to the last time I was home before my mom’s funeral, one year before she died. It’d been my first Thanksgiving home in four years, and in had walked a gorgeous woman with flowing blond hair and a smile that lit up the room, wearing a long-sleeved dress that hugged soft curves, and holding an arrangement of flowers that looked lifeless compared to her. I’d stared for a full minute before realizing it was Aubrey, all grown up.
The whole day, I’d been drawn to her, my gaze following her like a compass seeking true north, my smile matching hers as she schooled me in Hardt-style Clue. It was like the world somehow lifted with the edges of her mouth, and every time our eyes met, I became aware of the growing heat of my skin and the way my muscles tightened as if holding their breath.
I’d texted her after, not wanting to release that breath, knowing I’d have to in order to give my all to the High Hitter event, but holding onto the possibility of maybe.
Maybe she’d come to Japan. Maybe we’d connect. Maybe this tug in my body would reveal a chance for something more.
Then my mom got sick, and “maybe” disintegrated with the rest of reality as I knew it.
Now here Aubrey was, carrying that same quiet authority I couldn’t look away from while asking me to help her enjoy sex, and knowing she felt safe enough with me to ask for it brought me right to the edge.
I’d do whatever she wanted me to. Would let her do whatever she wanted tome. As far as I was concerned, my body was hers to use. She could chain me up and whip me raw if it brought her pleasure.
The thought sent heat racing to my groin. Through force of will I didn’t know I had, I stayed where I was on the edge of her kitchen.
Talk first.
“Okay,” I said, setting my glass aside and gripping the counter. “Tell me exactly what you want this to be.”
Coming upstairs must have eased some of her anxiety because she answered right away. “I want to know what good sex feels like. And maybe try some things I’ve never done before. To actually see what I like and don’t like instead of guessing or never finding out.”
