With Love, from Cold World(51)

It was the last word she was capable of speaking as he stroked her with one finger, then two, harder and faster until all the building pressure inside her crested and broke over her like a wave. Her whole body shuddered and Asa’s fingers were still inside her, as if waiting out her body’s response, which felt like it would last forever. She knew it wouldn’t, knew eventually he’d have to withdraw, but she found herself wanting to delay that moment as long as possible.

It did normally take her longer to reach orgasm, even when masturbating. And yet it had immediately felt different with Asa. Like she was more in the moment, like there was no room in her mind for overthinking when there was so much to feel.

Aftershocks were still tingling through her when Asa lay down next to her, propping himself up on one elbow. He traced her collarbone, causing her to shiver. Her rose pendant must’ve gotten flipped around, and he fixed it, smoothing it until it laid flat.

“What’s the story with the necklace?”

She reached up for it reflexively. She was still trying to catch her breath. “My necklace?”

“You always wear it.”

The ridges of the rose petals were comforting against her thumb. It had been a long time since she’d given in to the nervous habit of rubbing the pendant like a talisman, but the old comfort was there. “My mom gave it to me,” she said. “For my first day of first grade. We had a thing where we’d pick a flower for the year, and called it good luck if we spotted it out in the wild. Rose was for first grade, lotus for second, then violet, then iris . . .”

He smiled, his hand brushing hers as he reached to admire the pendant. “Then what?”

Iris had been for fourth grade. By the middle of that school year, she’d been pulled away from her mother and placed in another school on the other side of the county. They should’ve stacked the luck decks better. Chosen a common wildflower, a hibiscus, an azalea.

Asa could roll right back into conversation, as though those same fingers currently twisting the pendant hadn’t been inside her only a few minutes before. She’d thought it was kind of hot, the way they’d never even gotten all the way undressed, the scratch of the carpet on her shoulder blades as he’d brought her to orgasm.

But now she was realizing that he’d never even finished. Maybe this had been part of his plan all along, to loosen her up and show her a good time. Wasn’t he always mentioning that? How she needed to learn how to unwind and have more fun?

She didn’t really think it had been planned. Or she didn’t want to think so. It was hard to know the difference. All she knew was that she’d definitely never intended for any of it to happen.

She sat up, pushing back against the wall. Her legs still felt a little wobbly, a delicious soreness between her thighs reminding her of what they’d just done. In her office.

God, what had she been thinking?

“Where are my glasses?” she asked, feeling naked and empty without them on her face.

He reached over and retrieved them from the potted plant, handing them to her. That’s right. She remembered him putting them there now. She’d been touched by how much care he’d taken with them, and the way he’d folded her sweater to make her a pillow. There’d been a tenderness to those gestures that had to mean he cared about her at least a little, right?

Asa is fickle. Wasn’t that what Kiki had warned her just earlier that night? Maybe what had happened between them wasn’t about pity, maybe it wasn’t even about some stupid random number generator game, but whatever it was, it had a shelf life of a couple months, tops. And what then?

“I’m going to freshen up,” she said, getting to her feet and trying to avoid eye contact with Asa without making it look like she was trying to avoid eye contact.

He stood, too, still wearing only his jeans, which sat low enough on his hips that she could see a strip of his hunter green underwear, the light dusting of hair that led down to his . . . well. Now she needed to avoid looking at his face or anywhere else on his body, so she directed her next comment to somewhere in the vicinity of the stuffed polar bear on the filing cabinet.

“And then we should try to figure out a way to get some sleep?” she said. “I may just try putting my head down at my desk . . . Dolores’ office is probably open if you wanted to do the same.”

“Lauren,” he said.

She gathered her purse, making sure her phone was inside. “I’ll be right back,” she said. She knew the phrase was relative. She’d be gone however long it took her to regain control, and at that moment, it didn’t feel like there were enough minutes in the world.





Chapter


Fourteen

Somewhere, he’d fucked up. He just couldn’t tell where.

He’d thought Lauren was with him every step of the way. She’d been shy at first, tentative about touching him, but he’d had no doubts that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

He’d been shocked when she brought up the kiss. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it, since it happened. But she’d seemed so mortified at the time that it had been clear to him that the only way forward was to pretend like it never happened, put it in a box somewhere under the bed and only bring it out during the occasional night when he couldn’t sleep and wondered if she’d meant anything by it. He’d never imagined she might have a box of her own, that the memory of that kiss was more accessible than he thought.