"Sit down," I told him. And a little to my surprise, he did what I said, resettling on the pallet with his back to the wall.
Now that I'd really decided to do this, my temporary calm was dissipating, turning into a sick, belly-clenching anticipation. I stepped forward, following him to the miserable excuse for a bed that was all we had.
I'd committed now. No going back. Like the few, nauseating seconds between jumping off a cliff and hitting the ground.
I knelt next to him, almost touching. Close enough to reach out and touch, if I wanted to run my hand down over the heavy muscles of his chest. To touch his cock. Brush my fingers over his lips.
They weren't the kind of lips I'd usually want to kiss. Too firm, too masculine. I'd usually fucked women, or sometimes very pretty men. Like Landon, for example.
But it was all I had. He was all I had.
