Page 69 of The Score

I gently push her hair over her shoulder, so I can undo the long row of small buttons at her back.

I gulp. My fingers are thick, but I handle the tiny silk-covered buttons diligently. More skin appears. This time, she shivers. Makes a sound that has my cock standing to attention. Shit.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is thin, all of a sudden. "Ticklish."

Nearly twenty years since I met her, and this is the first time I hear her react like this and call it being ticklish. If it's true, it's better than the way I'm responding to all of this, with trembling fingers that slow down my work, andblood going to all the wrong places. Hell, my brain isn't cooperating at all either. It's providing images of kissing her shoulder, nibbling on her earlobe, taking her to bed… like this was a real wedding night…

Good Lord, Leon Karlsen. Stop this right now.

I take a deep breath and beg for a reprieve. A boner is one of the worst things that can happen, when I'll be undressing soon and getting in bed with my wife.

Just biology. Habituation. Science. Normal. Natural. Casual.Please.

The piece of clothing comes loose. She holds it in place with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't need help with my bra, thanks." She gazes sheepishly at me.

With one hand, she grabs her clothes from the bed and runs across the bedroom. I lift my eyes to the ceiling, arms jarred, hands fisted on my hips. It's the only way I manage not to watch her skip to the bathroom. The image of her flesh stirring as she walks, the tight undershorts, all that skin— it would get seared into my mind. That's dangerous at a whole new level, tonight.

I finish undressing and sit on the side of the bed to wait my turn. Yeah, I'm hard, and it's difficult to hide. I lock my fingers over my lap and hope for the best.

What used to be confusion now is worry. I'm at the edge of the line we never meant to approach. I thought I could do this. That it would be simple and I'd handle it. But signs point otherwise.

She comes out of the bathroom and swiftly gets in bed. I don't get to see much— there's not much to safely look at. Her nightgown is a tiny cream-colored thing. I'm glad I don't get to study it very closely. I don't think I could handle it.

Pretending I'm not hard, I keep my front away from her sight and walk as casual as possible to the bathroom. I close the door behind me. I take a deep breath, put my hands on the vanity, and hang my head.

I am getting swept up by the fantasy of the night. By a kiss that rocked my world. By a ring on my finger I've been dreaming of for ages. I'm soovertaken by the evening, I'm looking at my friend and thinking of sex. Things I was never meant to feel for her.

And all the while, my cock twitches in my underwear, demanding attention. Hoping for some action.

Maybe I should rub one out. Bite my lip not to make a sound and make myself come— it wouldn't take long. I'm not sure how I'll be able to sleep otherwise.

But no. I take off my underwear and step right into the shower. Without mercy, I flip the faucet on to a very cold temperature. The gasp that tries to leave me gets chewed back. I bring my toothbrush and toothpaste and get busy with the menial task, right there under the chilly stream hitting my shoulders.

Tonight, had I given in and touched myself, I would have consummated my wedding to Pen in my mind. Lost in my imagination, I would have pressed my lips to her, exploring her mouth with my tongue, revelling in how different it felt to kiss after sharing our vows. I'd be fucking her slow, then fast, and then…

Hell's sake, Leon.

I put the water to freezing.

When I finally come out of the bathroom, I find several pillows in the middle of the bed.

"It should help, right?" she asks.

I nod, but I'm not surprised when it still takes me ages to fall asleep. And not at all surprised, when they're all gone the next morning, and she's in my arms once more.