Page 83 of Saving Forever
God, this is so hard.
But the one realization I had today is that my time with him might be more limited than I originally thought. And if that’s the case, why not enjoy every second I can with him? I’m already head over heels for him so continuing to have sex until we figure out what’s next isn’t going to make leaving him hurt any less. What’s the point of depriving myself?
“You sure there isn’t anything I can do to make you feel better?” I murmur, slowly pulling off my pajama top.
His green eyes become an emerald fire.
“Maybe there is something,” he murmurs. “But you must remove the bottom first.”
I shimmy out of my pajama shorts.
Now I’m standing there in nothing but my bikini panties, and I see the erection starting to tent his boxers.
Slowly, I run my hands over my breasts, squeezing lightly and bringing them together.
“Like anything you see?” I tease.
“I like everything.”
He reaches for me, but I dance out of the room and make my way to the bed with him on my heels. He catches me right as I’m about to lay down and pulls me against his chest. Before I can say anything, his mouth covers mine and he plunges his tongue deep. There’s nothing tentative about our kisses anymore. We’ve done it enough so that our bodies know exactly what to do. What turns us both on.
Our limbs tangle as we roll over, kissing and groping and stroking. I love the feel of his hands on me. When he cups my ass and holds me tight against his body. The warmth that soothes me when we’re skin-on-skin. How I’m able to lose myself in him with no fear, no reservations. I’m fairly certain I would let him do anything he wants to me.
“I need you,” he whispers in a gruff voice.
God, that does something to me.
“Take what you need,” I whisper back.
He doesn’t even bother to take off my panties—he just moves them to the side and thrusts in deep. We’re laying on our sides, facing each other, and he’s pulled my left leg up and over his right hip. His lips fuse with mine as he thrusts in and out, hard, fast, almost desperate.
We kiss and grind and grope, bodies beautifully in sync, despite how frantic it feels. Like he can’t get deep enough and I can’t get close enough. It’s almost as if we’re each hiding something emotional that we’re trying to work through physically.
My orgasm hits me out of nowhere, and I shriek his name, bucking against him as he pumps into me a few more times before finding his own release.
Then we just lay there, hearts pounding, bodies close together, neither of us moving for a while.
Finally, he pulls out and slowly gets to his feet, padding into the bathroom without a word.
Something squeezes painfully in my chest, but I don’t know what it is.
Worse than that, I don’t know if there’s any way to salvage the relationship we’ve started to build. Or if he even wants to.
Secrets are never a good idea but what choice do I have? He hasn’t made me any promises and our future is so uncertain. Women tend to want to talk everything out, including me. With Nathan, it would turn into gaslighting and arguing and frustration.
I want to protect Viktor. Just until the series is over and we have time to focus on each other.
Except that interview in New York falls right smack in the middle of the next three games in Alaska. That’s not the normal playoff schedule, but because of the time difference and the distance from Atlanta to Anchorage, going with the traditional 2-2-1-1-1 schedule is too taxing on the players, so they changed it to 2-3-2. Because the Thunder has a slightly better record, the series begins and ends in Atlanta, but those three games in Alaska will play out over six days.
And I don’t know if he’ll forgive me for not being there.
I don’t even know if I’ll forgive myself.
Chapter Thirty
Viktor
I feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
