Chapter Three:
You’re Going to Break for Me
I thought I’d feel full for days.
Turns out, I barely lasted a day and a half.
He hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. And even though I knew Julien wasn’t the type of man to beg for time or space or attention, it didn’t stop the ache between my legs from growing every hour he stayed silent.
I wanted him again. I wanted the version of me I became with him.
When I opened the door on Sunday evening to see him leaning in the frame—black t-shirt, jeans that hugged his thighs too well, and that tattooed arm propped casually against the side—I knew I wouldn’t last five seconds.
I didn’t.
“I was beginning to think you ghosted me,” I said.
He didn’t smile.
“I’ve been thinking about how good your throat felt.”
My breath caught.
He stepped inside, wa
