Page 66 of The Write Choice

His thrusts become more powerful and rhythmic. His fingers are almost painfully pressing into my skin, but it’s the kind of pain that is so wonderful that I lean into it. I leave my hands on the shower door like he told me to, but I use it as leverage to push back into him, meeting his thrusts. The only sounds are the meeting of our skin and the pulse of the water still trained on me.

I risk moving one hand from the door and snaking it down my body, touching where we meet. His breathing becomes even more labored as he feels my fingers on him. I reach lower, cupping his balls in my hands, massaging them.

“Cat,” he moans. “Fuck yes.”

“I know what you like,” I tease. I feel him go even harder inside me, and I know he’s close. I use my arm between my legs for some added pressure, and I come undone again just before he thrusts erratically into me, grunting, then sighing.

He stills for a moment, then kisses my shoulder. He pulls out of me, and I shift to stand upright, but his hand on my lower back stops me.

“No, let me look.”

I look over my shoulder at him again, a coy smile playing at my lips. “You didn’t have enough of a view before?”

His eyes meet mine, darkening. “Never.”

We hold each other’s gaze for a moment longer, then he takes a washcloth off a hook and lathers it with soap. He gently cleans between my thighs, then over my back and breasts, then kneels again and works on cleaning my legs. His touch is smooth and sensual, and it has me fighting another warmth building.

“Brandon,” I breathe a warning. “If you keep this up, I’m going to jump you again.”

He chuckles darkly, looking up at me from where he still kneels. “I’m not twenty-four anymore, Cat. I’m going to need a few more minutes.”

He glides the soapy washcloth over himself quickly. I pout my lower lip dramatically. “You got to do me. I would have done you, too.” I’m still leaning over, pressing my hands into the shower door which probably should be weird at this point, but I like the way he’s looking at me a little too much.

He shakes his head, droplets of water falling off the ends of his hair and down his chest. “I want to take care of you, Cat. I hardly ever get to.” His expression is more earnest than I’ve ever seen it.

My heart squeezes. I sink to my knees in front of him, the water falling over both of us now. A tear creeps its way down my cheek, too, but I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. “I’m right here. Every day. You could take care of me all you wanted if you just came home.” It’s a plea, and I probably should be ashamed of how desperate I’ve become for his attention, but I can’t muster up the energy.

He gently touches my cheek, pushing a wet piece of hair behind my ear. He leans in and kisses my nose. “I know.”

He pushes to standing, then pulls me up with him. He shuts the water off and steps out, grabbing a towel. He comes back to me with it, toweling me off, then wrapping me in it. All the while, he’s silent, his expression unreadable.

Tiny little prickles of anxiety bubble up in me, feeling like little toothpicks poking my heart. My breathing catches. He dries himself off with another towel, then finally looks at me. He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up. He kisses me passionately, dissolving most of my anxiety as his hands scrape over my still-exposed skin.

“Why don’t we move this to the bed?”

My eyes dip to his waist, then lower, then trail slowly back to his face. “You haven’t had enough yet?”

He runs a hand through his wet hair, shaking it out a little. The muscles on his forearm shift delicately underneath his tattoo as he moves his palm to absent-mindedly stroke the letters on his chest.

“Not possible.” He says it with such fervor that the lingering prickles of anxiety are soothed completely. “But I’m freezing. Let me find some dry sweatpants, and I’ll meet you out there.”

Chapter 19

Brandon

I’m a piece of shit, and I know it. I’ve barely been able to admit to myself how much I am struggling at work, let alone tell Katie that I’m wondering if taking this promotion was a terrible idea. Mason has been so happy. I thought Katie would turn a corner when she had her studio and some new friends. I have friends here, too. Fuck, I went pole dancing with them, and we had a great time, which is something that never would have happened back on the East coast.

But when I saw Katie breaking down earlier, I froze. I’ve been so worried about this job, but I’ve been more worried about her, without any clear ideas for how to help. I hadn’t meant for things to go as far as we took them tonight, but as soon as I touched her skin, it was like little fires erupted in my veins. When she told me to touch her, my resolve crumpled.

I can’t resist her. I never could.

We should have talked first. I knew it, but my dick took over because I’m an idiot. And she’s perfect.

Now, she’s sitting outside the bathroom, sated but probably confused, because I can’t keep my dick in check long enough to talk to her while she’s not wearing any clothes.

I’m sorry I got pregnant, Brandon.

Those words hit me like a knife. I have never been sorry she got pregnant. Not once. It’s fair to say I didn’t know her very well, but what I knew, I liked. A lot. It’s also fair to say I had no idea what being a parent would be like, but it had always been something I knew I wanted. The timing felt irrelevant. And now, after six years of marriage and two kids, I always thought it was a moot point.