Page 72 of Yearn

And under all of it, the ache that had been swelling since the call—the ache that said I wanted him.

Not a theory.

Not a what-if.

Him.

I touched the book’s page with one finger.

Dom’s voice ran in my head doing Oliver’s favorite line and J’s quiet laugh rode under it.

Okay. Let me. . .get myself together.

It was now. . .later. . .I knew I needed to go downstairs and talk to Dominic—no more floating promises, no more hiding behind being busy. But I’d been in work shoes, the same dress, and recycled air all day. My skin was now tacky with other people’s breath and arguments.

If I was going to speak clearly, I needed to go to my bathroom and wash the day off me first.

I’ll take ten minutes.

Once I had hot water, a clean body, and a steady mind, then I would knock on his door like a grown woman.

It wasn’t avoidance.

It was me choosing to show up as the best version of myself.

Quickly, I padded down the hall and checked on the kids. Oliver was starfished across his bed, cheek shiny with sleep, arms locked around his stuffed dinosaur like it might try to sneak out on adventure without him.

I went to J’s room next. They were a neat little mountain under their blanket, one knee tented, mouth open in a soft snore that fluttered the tiniest breath against the pillowcase.

Their rainbow night-light glow made everything warm and harmless.

Minutes later, I stripped while I walked into my bedroom, undoing buttons, slinging my jacket on the chair, and loosening my blouse. Once the work outfit was off, my bra snapped away and I slipped out of my panties.

Oh God. Finally I can relax a bit.

I entered the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

Steam bloomed the second I turned the faucet, curling up the mirror and softening the lights until they glowed.

Tiles cool under my bare feet.

The water came down soothing warm and pounded into the knots along my shoulders.

God yes!

I tipped my face into the heated spray and let my mouth fall open and exhaled the rough parts of the day out.

Sighing, I turned to the right and glanced at my rose-shaped vibrator—Denzel.

The shower helped, but I was still jittery—and very fucking horny.

Lusty heat sat low in my belly.

At the thought of seeing Dominic soon, my nipples grew tight in the steam. My thighs pressed together without me thinking about it.

I wanted him so bad—his mouth, his hands, his cock.

But I wanted to be fair to him too.