“In the ring Tink." Lance points at me.I sigh, "Lance…uhm…sir. My name is Sarah."He waves me off, "We all have nicknames here. I'll never remember Sarah. But with your hair in that bun, you look like Tinkerbell.”
“You are so lucky to have each other. I've never actually seen a man love a woman as much as he loves you, Sarah. I love your father and he loves me. We have survived a lot of things, but I know in my heart of hearts our love is not as intense as yours.”
“He stops kissing, but his lips stay touching mine, lightly, like a feather would. "I'm bad for you, Sarah. I won't ever be the gentleman you need.""Maybe I don’t want gentle."He pulls something from his dress pants and presses it into my hand. "And that is my fault.”
“He steps back and sits in the chair in the corner. His grin is smug and cocky. He sits with his legs spread, like before."Undress." He watches me.I take a deep breath and pull my shirt off, dropping it to the floor next to my jacket.”
“I grip him. "Don’t leave me."He kisses my lips, "Never again. This isn’t me leaving you. This is me choosing you." He throws my words back at me.He kisses me once more and then pushes off. He leaves and doesn’t look back. I fight the urge to run after him.”
“He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed."Don’t move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him."Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them.”
“Did you make the crawl of shame?"I open one eye and smirk, "What?"She pulls back the covers and plucks my t-shirt, "What is this?"I swallow and stretch and moan a little, "My…" I clear my throat, "Uhm...t-shirt."I make duck lips and watch her. She arches her eyebrow and shakes her head, pointing at my shirt and waggling her finger. "Nuh uh. No. I know all your dirty skeezy little orphan clothes and this shit isn’t yours." She bats her eyelashes blankly, "Spill bitch.”