Stuck with You

Did I . . . Did I misunderstand?

I find myself pulled into his body, hugged tight against his chest, and I should probably insist on apologizing properly and offer an in-depth debriefing of everything that has occurred, but I just let myself sink into him. Smell his familiar scent. When he smooths my hair back, I bury my face into his shirt and melt, soaking in the silence and the relief

And then I feel myself starting to cry, because of course, out of everyone in the entire world, he would know

Which, let me tell you, is no fun when you know in your lizard brain that you’re about five minutes from falling in love with someone

But I also wasn’t exactly able to quit thinking about you, which had me desperately looking for the reason you pulled back, to the point that I’ve been replaying what happened between us that night every day—every . . . single . . . day—for the past three weeks.”

“Have a big breakfast and forty snacks with me, then.”

“I noticed you.”
“Noticed me?” I undo the clasp of my bra. He twitches inside me. His jaw ticks with restraint.
“In the building. The lobby.” He closes his eyes. Then opens them. “Once in the elevator.”

love the feeling of my thighs being split wide by his torso, the hairs of his happy trail against my folds. I can have sex with him, after all. I want to have sex with him. I might die if I don’t have sex with him, because right now I want us to be as close as we humanly can

Physically, you are the uncanny combination of every single feature I’ve ever found attractive—no, I will not expand on that. And you saved me on your phone as Corporate Thor, even after I gave you my full name.”

It’s the best kiss of my life. No: it’s the best kiss in the world