AMBY AWARDS TOP PICK 2023 ❤️
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"You think I can't act like I'm into you?" He asks in a whisper. He reaches out, and strokes a finger down my cheek, and I feel myself shiver at the touch.
"You think I can't convince everyone that I have f...
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In my defence, I didn't know it was ex-sex at the time. I thought it was celebratory "the break is over and we're happy again" sex. (I'll think of a catchier title for that version later.)
Don't get me wrong, I'm sure there are circumstances in which sex with your ex is absolutely fine; if you want to do this yourself, then by all means please dont let me stop you!
But you both need to be on the same page. Me and Declan, it turned out, were in different books. I was in an epic romance novel and he . . . Well, to be perfectly honest, I don't think he's actually a massive fan of reading. He was probably watching the film version of a completely different book on DVD.
Admittedly, we'd not spoken much about our "relationship" when we had first met up in O'Neill's earlier that evening. In fact, I hadn't actually had much opportunity to speak at all; I'd been a bit starry-eyed, overjoyed at seeing Dec in the flesh again after so long. I'd been content to mostly listen as he filled me in on everything he'd been up to while we'd been apart.
"So... did you miss me?" I'd eventually asked eagerly, when there was finally a gap in conversation for me to wriggle myself into. Declan had grinned then, that effortlessly charming smile that had first attracted me to him when we first met.
"Of course, Abs!" He'd replied warmly, as if he couldn't believe I'd even had to ask. He winked, and my insides churned themselves into melted ice cream, as per usual. "In fact, I actually had an amazing dream about you the other night."
"Really?" I breathed, my cheeks heating up. He had been dreaming about me? This had to mean something.
He edged closer to me in the booth, mouth moving to within a few inches of mine. "Really," he confirmed, voice lowering. "You. Me. Bed. Handcuffs."
Oh my goodness.
"It was so hot," he added. "Maybe we could . . . Bring it to life?"
So yes, maybe Little Miss Optimist was rearing her perky little head a bit too soon, hope sparkling in those aforementioned starry eyes. But I genuinely thought this proposition meant our break must be over. As he pressed his lips against mine, his stubble scraping against my skin, I relaxed into the kiss, swallowing a gasp as he subtly (I hoped, given the public setting!) brushed a finger along one of my nipples. God, I'd missed the way he could make me feel, with just the simplest of touches.
We'd met for drinks at 7pm; we were back at his flat before 7.45 pm.
Maybe that should also have been a major tip-off. But I was blind to the signs.
I have to admit the handcuffs comment had actually freaked me out a bit though. Initially I was just happy he'd been dreaming about me at all, and I probably got a bit over-excited; but as we entered his flat and he started to peel the clothes from my body, I realised I wasn't sure I was going to be able to completely invest in his vision.
