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"Co the s in front of him where he holds the doors open "Why are you here?" he asks, and he doesn’t reach for me or touch me when I want him to touch me And I want to touch him perhaps more than I have ever wanted to touch anyone

"You knohy," I reply

His response is no response He stands there, towering over , I hope he finds Sinceritythis time? I do not know but I ao upstairs with him "I couldn’t stay away and the truth is, I didn’t want to"

There is a flicker of eingin his floor Another quick maneuver later, I’ mine, his hands on the wall above me, instead of on y I’d felt in hiht with his brother back tenfold

"I told you I couldn’t stay away And…" I hesitate a moment on a confession, a piece of myself I’m supposed to deny now, but I can’t Not with him and what I know of his father now "And because," I continue, "my father killed himself and I knohat it’s like to love and hate a parent at the sauilt"

I have barely said the words and his hands are fra at me, but not with a question this time, but rather with shock that fades into heat and desire, and then he is kissing uilt I’ve proclaier, that I know and expect, is there too Hot Fierce Intense and barely contained It is raw, the way I know his emotions have to be as well and I am certain he wants to drive them away, at least for now For a one

The elevator dings and he tears hisWith purpose in his steps, he walks toward his apartht there with him I am ready to be alone with him, to revel in every second I have with this man I know it can’t last And I am ready to be the way he escapes and finds just a little peace in the war that rages in his reality

By the ti and my knees are weak, not fro between us He opens the door and we are inside his dark apart me chilled in all the places he’d made me warm, which is prettyour deal to spend this night together A moment later, maybe two, Shane’s hands settle onthe wall,to the floor, my hands pressed to the hard surface in front ofht in every way that nothing could everto fuck Just fuck and I need you to tell me you know that"

"I’m the one who said--"

"Say it"

"I understand"

"Say it"

"We’re just fucking"

He leans in closer, his breath a warm tickle on my neck, his voice a firm demand "You do what I say You trust ive easily, and yet, I sense that this isn’t about just wanting my trust It’s not even really about trust, but rather the control death steals frole" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true"></ins>