Page 82 of Heart Over Heels

And somehow, I had fallen beneath the shelter of that same care. I’d become a recipient of the consideration he gave so freely. The warmth he offered like it cost him nothing, when I knew it must have cost him everything.

Darby pushed up from the mattress, releasing me as he stood. “I’ll be right back.”

His tail slithered across my shoulders and then down my sternum, a parting touch that made me shiver.

I watched as he skirted around the bed and disappeared into the en suite, pushing the door barely shut behind him.

Left alone, my hands gripped the comforter that was, in fact, the best shade of green, and my heart thundered.

I should’ve stopped this before it got this far, but Darby had brought us here, into this room and onto my bed. The invitation was as clear as it was impossible to refuse.

And yet—truths and lies. He’d been honest in a way that left me raw, and I hadn’t given him the same.

Clothes would come off soon, and there would be no hiding the scars. The damage. The handicap I’d spent too long denying.

The right time to confess had come and gone. Now I was staring down the edge of it, trying to summon the courage to explain myself before he touched me again.

Slowly, I stood and followed the path Darby had made to the bathroom, flexing my fingers and measuring my breaths.

At the door, I knocked. The nudge eased it open another inch, enough to frame Darby in the gap.

He stood naked, braced against the counter with his eyes heavy-lidded and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His tail hugged around his waist, and his hand moved behind him.

He paused when he noticed me, and our gazes locked through the narrow opening.

I’d imagined him like this, but seeing it stole the air from my lungs. Every inch of him was on display, even the parts usually hidden behind satin and lace.Especiallythose parts. His cock was half hard, but it was small and delicate like the rest of him, no more than a few inches long. It nestled in the field of smooth brown skin that warmed beneath the vanity light.

He turned toward me, his hand still moving slowly behind—no,inside—himself. A pump bottle of lubricant and a wrapped condom sat on the counter, and while I wasn’t experienced with the mechanics of gay sex, I wasn’t ignorant either.

“I didn’t take you for the type who likes to watch,” Darby mused.

“Oh, I…” Mortification clawed up my throat, but I managed to hold my ground instead of bolting.

“You want a show, honey?” He dashed a glance toward the edge of the shower tub. “Have a seat.”

I crossed the room and sat where he told me to. The porcelain chilled me through the fabric of my pants as I shifted uncomfortably. I tried sitting on my hands, then clasping them in my lap while feeling far too seen for someone who was supposed to be watching.

Darby’s smile flickered in the mirror before he pivoted, giving me a view that was more suggestion than spectacle. His hand moved rhythmically, hips rolling back into each careful push. When I caught a glint of lube tracing down the inside of his thigh, my mouth went dry.

He shuddered—a jerky, full-body stretch—and his tail cinched around his waist. His white lashes fluttered, and hisbreath broke on a sound that turned my blood molten. NowIwas the one chewing my lip.

“Can I?” The question slipped out as I leaned forward, barely able to stay seated. “I want to feel you.”

Darby huffed a laugh. “You’re about to feel me all over, baby.”

“But this is…” I bit down, unprepared for how needy I sounded as I asked, “Will you let me?”

His brows drew together, and his orange eyes flickered as he stared at me, checking to see if I meant it or maybe wondering why I’d asked. When I didn’t shy away, he slowly withdrew his fingers. Then he turned a little more, facing the counter and bracing both palms against it.

Rising, I stepped in behind him, close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his temples. I glanced at the lube then caught his gaze in the mirror.

“How much should I…”

His lips curved. “Measure with your heart.”

Grabbing the bottle, I poured a palmful and worked it through my fingers until they were slick and glossy. Darby stayed perfectly poised while I closed in behind him. My head hung over his shoulder and my arms bracketed him in. And faced with our combined reflection, I stared.

All the time he spent in heels had sculpted and refined his shape, giving him a figure that blurred the lines between strength and grace. His stomach was soft and smooth, denting where I pressed my fingers into it and dragged them out to hook around his waist beneath the leathery line of his tail. He shifted, and the pearls dangling from his nipple rings swayed, drawing my notice to the illusion of tiny, perky tits.