“Kat . . .” Garth was breathing hard, his grip on my hips tightening. Not remotely painful, but enough to coax me to move with a little more force.

I was breathing hard, but not panting, and a thin sheen of sweat coated my skin.

“I can’t—” His fingertips dug into my hips. “I’m going to—”

“Come,” I said, rocking my hips in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. I was so close; sensing his spike in pleasure was bound to push me over the edge.

He went rigid beneath me, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowing to slits.

I threw my head back as pleasure exploded in my core, sending sparks cascading through my body. It seemed to last for a blissful eternity. I was still gliding along, lost to the sensations thrumming through me, when Garth pulled me down to rest on his chest and encircled me in his arms.

He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “That was insane,” into my hair.

All I could manage was a single, breathy laugh. I lay on top of him, feeling him soften within me, and listened to his heartbeat, strong and steady and fast. He ran his fingers through my slightly tangled hair, apologizing each time he got caught in a snag.

And for the first time since I was a child, I fell asleep touching another person. For the first time, as an adult, I felt comfortable enough to fall asleep that way. I felt safe. Like, just this once, it was okay to be vulnerable. Like, just this once, I could let my guard down for the night.

And so I fell asleep curled up on top of Garth. And it felt right.

When I woke, it was still dark out. I was no longer lying on Garth, but beside him, my legs tangled with his. I was on my back, sort of, him facing me on his side, his arm resting across my chest. His face was relaxed, peaceful, faint bruises and all. I watched him sleep for a couple minutes, waiting for a knot to form in the pit of my stomach. It always happened, after. It didn’t matter who I’d been with or what we’d done, I always felt that seedling of self-loathing. Of disgust.

It didn’t come. Even as I thought back through what had happened between us, as I replayed every touch, every sound and reaction, a feeling started in my belly, but not the one I was used to. A tingle and a flutter and a bit of a yearning ache. I wanted him again. And I never wanted them again. I wanted to kiss him, to look into his eyes. I wanted to know him.

I frowned, my chest tightening unexpectedly. All of a sudden, it was hard to breathe. My lungs were working—double time—but they didn’t seem to be pulling in anything except used, expended air. Not what my body needed.