Page 96 of Worth Every Moment

I’ve never had sex with anyone I cared about, let alone a woman I’ve just laid my heart out for. My words on the jet surprised me. If she hadn’t begged for them, I’d never havesaid anything. I’m a fucking idiot. We’re about to end this fake relationship. What do I say when my time is up?

I love you, but I have to marry someone else.

Erica’s hand is still drifting over my abs, her nails scratching lightly at the skin, but I can’t get my head straight. I’ve waded right into the ultimate pit of shit with this fake dating scenario, and I don’t know if I’m going to get out in one piece.

I need to bring this whole thing back to solid ground, where I know what the fuck is happening and what to do.

Sex, I can do. You want a meaningless good time, then I’m your man.

Anything else… I don’t know how to do it. In all honestly, given the way panic is thrashing in my veins all of a sudden, I’m not sure I’m equipped to do anything other than have meaningless sex.

In a desperate attempt to slow my thoughts, the guilt, the panic, I grab her, pulling her closer. I kiss her, hard and rough, coaxing her back towards the bed. She goes willingly, flopping back onto the sheets when her knees hit it.

I grab her wrists, holding them both over her head, pinning her to the bed. She lets out a gasping whimper as her back arches, her hips rocking against mine, where my dick is hard as fuck. I grind into her, and she grinds back, panting in my ear.

Her needy moans are making me dizzy with lust. I don’t need to worry about shit when I can draw those sorts of sounds from her.

I slide a hand up her thigh, hooking my fingers into her underwear and slipping my hand inside. She’s wet. So fucking wet.

I know what I’m doing here.

I tease my fingers out, grabbing at the tie on my trunks. If I can get them off, release my dick, we can fuck. We can just get the whole thing out of the way. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.

I can fuck Erica Lefroy like it’s meaningless, same as anyone else.

“What are you doing?” Erica says, and the horror in her tone has me freezing.

I meet her worried gaze, realising I haven’t looked at her once. Haven’t made eye contact at all while I’ve had her pinned to the bed.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I say, nodding at the tented fabric over my erection. “Getting my dick out so we can fuck.”

Her scowl crashes over her face like a storm and she wriggles out from underneath me, sitting up. “Just like that?”

“Just like what?” Agitation marks every line of her body, her face, but when she doesn’t explain, I add, “You’re soaked. It’s not as though we’d need more lube.”

I know I’m being an arse.I know it.But somehow, I can’t be a better man right now. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I know some part of me is losing their shit, but here I am, containing it, telling Erica we shouldjust have sex. Like that’s the solution toeverything. Her scowl gets deeper, and she shuffles off the bed so she’s standing.

I stand opposite her, the two of us positioned like we’re ready to duel.Pistols at fucking dawn.

My dick is still hard. I have no clue what’s happening here.

She shifts, tilting her weight from side to side. Nervous. Awkward.Well, bollocks to this.I’m addressing the elephant in the room.

“You don’t want to have sex with me?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it? What’s the problem?”

“You weren’t looking at me.” Her hands move desperately, fingers splayed, palms upwards, as though she’s begging me for something I don’t know how to give. “It was like I wasn’t even there. It was like someone gave you a job to do and you weregonna put your head down and do it even though you didn’t want to.”

Woah. “Of course I want to.” But then it hits me.She’s right. I did want to get through it. Because being with Erica that way feels fucking scary. Like it might split me apart in a way I’m not ready for, and even though she’s clearly not on board, it still seems like a good idea to me and I can’t stop. “Right now. We should just do it. Get it over with. It’s not as though we haven’t done things before. So, let’s just… go for it. We’re making this into something that’s much bigger than it should be."

“Really? That’s what you think we should do?” she says, her tone so sharp that it digs into my awareness, letting me know I’ve crossed another fucking line I shouldn’t have. I need to retreat from the offensive, but I can’t, because what’s behind the lines is so dark I don’t want to see it.

“It’s just sex,” I reply.

For a reason I can’t quite fathom, she looks like she might cry.I am royally fucking this up on multiple levels.I start pacing agitatedly, one hand in my pocket, the other deep in my hair. I can’t look at her. The judgment in her gaze is pricking my skin like I’m walking through a field of needles.