Who Breaks First (Clearwater University) - Page 47

And then, what happened after.

I don’t know how to describe what that was. I don’t know how to think about it. When he slammed me up against the door and made me come so hard I almost blacked out—that was a hate fuck, on both of our parts. I let myself go, I allowed myself to feel, because alongside the incredible sensations was a reassuring fortress of hate.

But when he crawled up onto the bed with me, still hard after coming all over his hand... what was that?

It wasn’t exactly gentle. But was it hate?

I didn’t feel any.

And that scares the shit out of me.

I knew what I was doing when I invited Trent over tonight. And I got what I wanted. But I didn’t know we were going to go that far. And I wish I could say I regret it, but right now, I don’t. That was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.

“So…” Trent’s low voice sounds unnervingly close to how I feel. Sated, happy, and fucking stunned.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what the hell that was about,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. I don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, and I pretend not to notice. It seems too intimate, too tender. But I don’t want him to stop.

“Me neither,” I reply, leaning my head on his chest. I can hear his heart beating. His skin is warm. God, he smells so good.

He lifts his head off the pillow, narrowing his eyes slightly as he gazes at me skeptically. “You don’t? You’re the one who answered the door dressed like a fucking present begging to be unwrapped.”

His description of me, and the way lust tightens his voice again as he speaks, sends a shiver down my spine.

“I guess I just thought…” I trail off for a second, hoping he can’t feel the tempo of my heartbeat pick up as I skirt away from the truth. The real reason I wore the negligee. The reason for all of this. “I guess I figured there was so much tension between us. It’s been building up for so many years, even when we were apart. It seemed like we could yell it out, or…”

“Fuck it out?” He chuckles, gazing up at the ceiling. His body feels relaxed beneath mine, and it occurs to me that, if there hadn’t been ulterior motives for my seduction, the explanation I just gave might actually have made sense.

I do feel… different around him.

Like something has shifted between us that won’t ever go back to the way it was, even if this was all meant to be a lie.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say with a small laugh. “Fuck it out. I mean, maybe a therapist wouldn’t recommend it, but it worked, didn’t it?”

He looks down at me, his blue eyes bright in the semi-darkness. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“I didn’t expect it to be like this,” I admit, my voice low. It’s a truth I shouldn’t say, but the words slip out before I can stop them. “I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“What way is that?” He’s watching me carefully, his gaze intense.

“I dunno. Relaxed. Easy.”

That’s not quite the right word for it, but I can’t think of the one that is. This is the first time Trent and I have had a conversation that wasn’t tinged with anger since my junior year of high school, and despite knowing I shouldn’t, I find myself enjoying it.

He was my best friend once.

And when that best friend was swallowed up by a monster who looked and sounded like Trent, I missed him.

The boy I used to know.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Trent murmurs, surprising me by hauling me up his body to kiss me thoroughly. “Your body is fucking made for sin. But all of you is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I reply, pulling back a little and looking away.

I’m almost completely draped over his body now, and I don’t know when this moment is going to end—the sweetness, the intimacy. I sort of expected it to be over the second he came inside me, but maybe we’re both still too high on a post-sex haze to put our walls back up yet.

“I’ve always sort of imagined this happening,” he says, and when I look back at him, I can’t read his expression.

Tags: Eva Ashwood Romance
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