I can smell his arousal and I’m just as turned on. Right now, it doesn’t matter that I’m here because I had a bad date or because some freak tried to hurt me. All that matters is that the two of us are together and right now, I don’t want anything more or less than what he’s offering me.
Somehow, in the midst of us making out, the blanket seems to slip down. I’m naked in front of him, but I’m not feeling scared or shy or upset anymore.
Now the only thing I want is to feel him touching me everywhere, and I want him inside of me.
Like, now.
I reach for his clothes and pull his shirt over his head.
“Felicity,” he says again, but I’m too far gone. I start kissing his neck and biting at his shoulder. My hands are on his thighs and then rubbing over his cock. He was obviously getting ready for bed when I showed up because he’s wearing the silkiest pajama pants I’ve ever seen in my life, but all I want to do is pull them down and off of him.
Why is he wearing so many clothes?
I tug at them, trying to get them off, but he grabs my wrists and holds them firmly in place.
“Felicity,” he says. This time, his voice is firm, and I look up at him. There are so many different emotions at place in his eyes.
Excitement.
Arousal.
Passion.
But there’s something else there, too.
Confusion?
“Felicity, you can’t just show up after five years and want to get me into bed. That’s not how this works. I get that you had a bad day, but you were the one that left.”
His voice sounds pained, and harsh, and I’m suddenly filled with complete embarrassment. He’s right, I know. Everything he just said is totally right. I did leave him. I walked away. I left, and I ignored him after the breakup, and I’ve made a point not to talk to him. Now, after one bad date, I’m at his house and I’m trying to sleep with him.
He must think I’m such a slut, huh?
Shit.
I slide off of his lap onto the floor, and I reach for the blanket and pull it around myself like armor. I wrap it tightly around my body, wishing more than anything that I had some clothes or something I could use to stay safe and to block myself from his view. I feel very, very naked right now, and all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem as sexy or as romantic as it did a minute ago.
Fuck.
How could I have gotten myself into a position like this? It was supposed to be a date. Just a date. I was supposed to go and enjoy myself and have fun. I wasn’t supposed to end up totally humiliated, embarrassed, and worried that my entire reputation was shot. More importantly, I wasn’t supposed to end up at Brendan’s house. I definitely wasn’t supposed to get rejected by Brendan. I don’t want to look up at him because all I’m wondering is what he thinks of me now.
Maybe he thought it was lame for me to show up at his place, but I don’t think he thought I was sleazy until now. He probably thinks I’m just a girl who goes around throwing herself at people. Maybe he’s forgotten what I used to be like: what we used to be like.
“None of that,” he says, and I feel him tilt my chin upward toward him. I look up into his eyes, but I don’t see judgment there.
I only see…
Acceptance.
Compassion.
Concern.
“This is a safe place, little fox,” he murmurs. “And it’s a place where you don’t have to be embarrassed about what you want.”
“But you said no,” I whisper.
“And that’s my right,” he says. He’s firm on this. “I am allowed to say no for any reason, and at any time, just as you are. Even in a relationship, saying no is allowed, Felicity, but that’s the problem: you and I are not in a relationship. We haven’t been for a long time.”