23. Felix

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

felix

I know we should move and get cleaned up, but no part of me wants to climb off Henry. He gave me something tonight he’s never given anyone. I know that’s a big step. I also know it puts my heart even more in jeopardy if I can’t convince him I’m not leaving.

Sure, he knows I’m stubborn as fuck, but I know he still fears I’ll leave him, like everyone else has.

My cock is still semi-hard and inside him. I feel my cum leaking out, and I want nothing more than to push back in. To own him in every way—the way he owns me. He laughs quietly and shakes his head, shifting below me and saying, “Jesus, I really am going to have to buy them a new couch.”

I laugh with him, leaning down to kiss him hard. I’ve been in a couple of relationships before, but nothing like this. Where we can laugh and talk, but then also just feel. Like we do after the laughter stops, and his hand moves over my chest to my heart, his eyes searching mine. I can feel what he’s feeling. I feel the nerves and the feeling of rightness. I know he has to be freaking out a little.

He confirms it when his mouth moves slowly to my ear, breathing quietly, “Don’t leave me.”

My heart cracks in half, hearing the desperate need there. The vulnerability. “I won’t.”

“Single father . . .” He turns his head in the direction of Hazel’s crib, but I know he can’t see her over the back of the couch from where he’s lying. “It’s a lot.”

“It’s not.” I want to tell him I love Hazel as much as I love him, and damn it, I do. But I don’t want to spook him. I know I need to keep taking this as slow as I can, but I’m impossibly in love with this man, and when he turns his face to look up at me, his eyes shining with something I can’t quite place, all I want to do is tell him everything.

I start to open my mouth to do that, but he leans up and kisses me sweetly, his hand on my cheek. “Let’s go take a shower before she wakes up,” he says quietly, and I just nod.

I climb off him and take his hand, leading him to the bathroom. We both climb under the warm spray in the shower, still unable to keep our hands off each other.

“Are you sore?” I ask against his lips, and he shakes his head.

But then he says, “Maybe a little, but it was worth it.” He grabs some soap and washes my body, his hands dragging all over me, and then I do the same for him.

I take extra care when I reach the crease of his ass, gently sweeping over his hole and then drag my hand to his cock that’s already hard and begging for more. We kiss, and his back hits the tile of the shower wall as I take both of us in hand, stroking until he comes against me, my own orgasm exploding moments later.

We clean up again and then climb out of the shower, drying off. I don’t want to get dressed, and there’s part of me that worries he’ll ask me to leave, but he doesn’t give me the chance to worry for long.

He takes my hand, pulling me toward the bed, and I follow, grabbing my briefs from the floor on the way and pulling them on. He does the same, and we climb under the covers, facing each other.

“You know I’m in this with you, right?” I ask quietly.

He takes a long time to answer me, his breathing soft and even, but he finally says, “I want to believe that.”

“But?” I ask with no anger whatsoever. I just want to talk about it.

“But I thought she was too. I know you aren’t her.”

I move closer to him, my hand brushing over his side. “I’m not, but I know it’s hard to believe it when you’ve been through so much.”

“You look at her differently.”

“Maggie?” I ask, not sure who he’s talking about, but I can see him shaking his head even in the dim apartment.

“Hazel,” he whispers. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls me closer to his body and holds me tightly like he’s afraid I’ll escape.

That’s the way he always holds me, and while I don’t hate it—not even a little bit—I do long for the day where he doesn’t feel like he has to do that.

I don’t know what he means about me looking at Hazel differently, but it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. He said it in a sort of dreamy way, which leads me to believe it’s a very good thing.

I listen to him as he sleeps, his breathing a melody of relaxation and trust, but he still clings to me.

He’s been so damn hurt all his life.

I hold him back, not letting go because I know in my soul I never will.