They complete me.
Nothing makes sense without them, the building blocks of logic.
A math teacher by day, a statistics doctorate student at night, my obsession to solve problems is constantly fed.
I'm exactly where I want to be in life, no unknown variables or unsolved formulas.
Until I meet her.
The woman beyond the numbers.
How can I stay away, when everything about her draws me in?
But how can I fall in love, when she won't promise me eternity?
“Annie, wait,” I blurt, holding my hand up in the air. “We haven’t had a minute alone since I got home. I told you I needed to talk to you tonight.”
She ignores my protests and buries her face into my lower abdomen, trailing her freshly glossed lips down the thin line of hair that travels from my belly button and disappears beneath the flannel cotton of my pajama pants. “We have the rest of our lives to talk. I haven’t had you inside me in way too long, and I’m not waiting any longer.” Her teeth clasp around the waistband and she drags the pants down far enough to reveal my goods. She frowns at the sight of my flaccid, clearly unaroused shaft, and then glances up at me, her brow wrinkled with confusion. “You didn’t miss your fiancée?”
The way she says that word—the same way she’s said it all evening long, at every chance she could get—grates on my nerves for a reason I’m not even sure of. She hasn’t done anything wrong exactly, but she expects me to be the same man I was when I left here a couple of weeks ago—the man who was comfortable and content in his life and relationship, happy even.
I’m no longer that man. Not even close.
Meeting Lyra changed everything; my life’s formula completely flipped around. She’s the answer I didn’t know I was searching for. And now I’ve come home to a huge mess. But I couldn’t bear to devastate my mom. Not again.
And as far as Annie… I am enough of a gentleman not to embarrass her in front of all our friends, coworkers, and family members. I may have realized I don’t love her like I thought I did, and I know telling her that is going to cause enough pain; she surely doesn’t deserve to be humiliated on top of that.
“I did miss you,” I insist as I reach down and yank my pajamas back up over my hips, prompting the crease in her forehead to deepen, “but we need to talk. I have things I have to tell you about my trip.”
I pause to wet my cracking lips with a nervous swipe of my tongue. The movement draws her worried gaze away from mine and down to my mouth, and then she quickly crawls up the length of my body and kisses me. Her tongue plunges deep and determined, her chest pressed flush against mine. She smells like desperation and tastes like regret.
“Whatever happened while you were there,” she whispers against my lips in between kisses, “it’s okay. I understand. Just leave it there, in the past. We can focus on the future. With each other. Your wild oats have now been sown.”
Her mouth returns to mine as her hand wedges between our bodies and slips inside my waistband, fingers stroking my shaft feverishly, frantic for a reaction. My cock, the Judas bastard, responds despite my brain’s opposition. And that’s when I know what I have to do.
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About the Author
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two
young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current,Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.