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I take my leather jacket off quickly and toss it to the side, not caring where it lands. Adrian rolls his eyes and picks it up, placing it on the hook by the door. He trails his fingers down the back of my neck.

I shiver, but it doesn’t feel the same.

“Don’t fuck with me. Let’s just get this over with,” I growl.

“Pardon me for wanting some foreplay,” he snaps at me, but then steps in front of me and puts his cigarette out on my bare forearm.

“F-Fuck.” The sound is low in my throat, the pain burning my arm igniting heat in my stomach.

I grab it from his fingers and toss it to the side, then grab him by the back of his hair.

“I still know how to rile you up,” he whispers.

“You know less than you think.” I yank him by his hair out of the entryway and into the living room. The next second, we’re on the couch and I smash my mouth against his.

I kiss him hectically, not caring if it’s too hard or too much. Though from his low moans underneath me and the way he’s trying to tear my clothing off, I think it’s fine.

Suddenly, I remember kissing Ethan like this, then having sex with him for the first time on the couch in the safe house.

I try to push it out of my head.

I’ve had sex with Adrian a dozen times since we met during my freshman year at the university. Since then I’ve figured out that the professor has a love for being dominated and used.

This doesn’t matter. It’ll be over quick, and then I can think about something else. I can stop feeling this pain.

Adrian gropes my bare chest when he gets my shirt off, and I grab his hands, pinning them above his head.

Just like Ethan.

“Fucking stop,” I growl to myself.

“Tell me what to do,” Adrian breathes. “Take me. Use me. Fuck me. Whatever you want, Dante.”

This man is ready. I could do anything to him. I could fuck him into oblivion, get off, and then leave.

However, as I grind against him, pin him to the couch, listen to him whimper…I’m as soft as I could possibly be.

My dick is so limp that it may as well not exist.

Everything I do makes me think of Ethan. Everything Adrian says reminds me of him, of the fact that these sounds, these touches…they’re nothing in comparison.

Guilt, frustration, and confusion fill me.

I push up off of Adrian and the couch, panting for air.

“What is it?” he asks, also breathless.

I shake my head and grab my shirt off the floor. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s going on, Dante?” he asks. I pull my shirt over my head as he sits up on the couch.

“I broke up with my fucking boyfriend, and I can’t stop thinking about him,” I say, my voice sharp with frustration. I zip and button my jeans and run my hand through my hair as I look at Adrian.

Adrian is flushed, and normally seeing a man all flushed and needy would really get me going, but all I want is to get out of here.

“Oh, sweetheart. I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend. I thought you were all about casual,” he says, looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “Don’t talk to me like that. Like you feel bad for me.”