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His gaze trickled down from the crown of my head to my lap, slow as a drop of water down the glass of the window behind me.
“If you want me to stop, say it. I’ll leave right now and you can tell your folks my mom made it back after all. Because you and I both know I can’t stay.” Stop. Four simple letters. Like love. Like hate.
I loved this about him. Loved how he could order me around, shred every trace of my own inhibitions, and fuck me until I teetered on the edge between feeling used and worshipped, then turn around and let me do the same to him.
