Page 71 of Don't Think

Confident. Allie.

He barely gets the door shut before I step forward, nervousness tightening in my throat. With both hands, I reach up to cradle his rough cheeks, and without a second thought, I pull him to me and press my lips to his.

They’re just as soft as I remember. Tinged with the sweet taste of spearmint.

His tongue gently sweeps across mine, tasting every bit of me as I step closer to him. He wraps a hand in my hair while the other snakes around my waist, pressing my body flush against his.

That feeling alone already makes my whole body heat.

He carefully steps forward, gripping his hand tighter around my waist so we don’t fall until the back of my knees hit the mattress. Without our lips separating, he slowly lowers me onto the bed and towers over me.

His lips pull from mine, the sudden loss leaving mine already feeling swollen and needing more. I watch his eyes rake over me from head to toe, and I suddenly start regretting this decision.

Even though the lights are off, I’m still on perfect display.

Thankfully, my clothes are still on at least.

Gently placing both of his hands on either side of my legs, he slowly crawls his way to me. When his face is level with mine, he smiles, that now-familiar dimple cutting into his cheek and making me melt.

“This okay?” he asks, his voice suddenly sounding a lot gruffer than I’ve grown used to.

It sends a shiver down my spine, the pressure already building low in my core with need.

I nod, leaning forward to grab the hem of his shirt and slowly lift it up his back and over his head. My hand reaches up to trace the small, intricate lines in his tattoo that I never realized went all the way to his pecs. The various shapes and sizes of the black swirls spill from his chest down his arm like a waterfall.

Then, his hand is on my thigh, carefully sliding higher until his fingers gently bunch the sides of my skirt. His eyes meet mine, silently asking for my permission before going any further.

I give him a nod, my heart rising to my throat while I raise my hips to help make it easier for him. He pulls it down slowly, my pulse beating so fast I can hear it.

Sitting up, I run my hands down my shirt until I grip the bottom of it and throw it off quickly so I can’t give myself time to back down.

But then his eyes marvel over me, looking over every inch of my body while I lie here, in nothing but a pair of black, lacy underwear and a black, mesh bra.

I might as well be wearing nothing with how exposed I feel. My face flushes, and I wish I could say it’s from the anticipation of havinghim… but it’s not. It’s only fear rushing to the front of my mind.

Fear that he’ll change his mind.

Fear that he’ll see my used, imperfect body and be repulsed.

It’s not hard to miss the stretch marks and the extra skin that clings to my hips.

Maybe when I said I had two kids, it didn’t fully register that it changed my body.

Maybe now it does, and he wants to stop.

Honestly… I wouldn’t even blame him.

“God,” he murmurs, then pauses.

My heart slowly falls into my stomach. I knew this would be too good to be true.

“You are so beautiful.”

His words crash into me, nearly making me lose my breath as I stare at him.

Nobody haseverlooked at me the way he is now or called me beautiful like this. He wasn’t saying it just for the sake of saying it either. The way his eyes don’t linger just on my chest, but everywhere like I’m a damn five-course meal shows hemeansit.

Without thinking, I quickly pull him back to me, my mouth colliding with his, and I guide us back against the bed. His calloused hands travel smoothly up my legs again, stopping at the hem of my panties before he hooks one finger through the sides and slides them down agonizingly slow.