He lifts his hand, his wrist still enclosed in my hand, and presses his fingers into his mouth. Whatever noise comes from my lips, some sort of whine in the back of my throat, turns my cheeks maroon. Yet, I can’t look away as he pulls his long fingers from his swollen lips. He’s everything. The way I think about him scares me. I need distance before this really hurts. And yet— “We should do this more.” His smile is like spun gold. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” I repeat, feeling a bit like I’m floating. “Yeah, actually, I think this would be good for us both. You need a distraction and I need a… release.”
