I squeezed the counter. My knuckles ached. My fingers dug into the cold marble like it was the only thing keeping me tethered to the world. My body had stopped being mine the second he walked in.
I could feel him behind me. Not touching.
But close.
Too close.
The kind of close that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The kind of close that made my stomach flip and the heat between my legs pulse.
“You really think I’m going to touch you?”
I didn’t move.
Couldn’t speak.
My throat was dry. My mouth open.
Because I had thought he would.
Because my cunt was wet and begging for it.
Because I’d come down here not just for the drink.
But for this. For him. For something..anything.
And he knew it.
He f*****g knew.
“I’m not going to,” he said, stepping closer..not to touc
