People often say that for men and women, intimacy, once experienced, will inevitably lead to a second time. This rule, however, didn’t apply to Sullivan. Bethany could clearly sense his arousal; his eyes were even flushed with desire.
Yet, just as their clothes were nearly shed, Sullivan abruptly stopped. He turned his back to her, picked up his jacket and shirt from the floor, mumbled an apology, and rushed out the door. His escape was hasty, almost comical, clad only in his trousers.
Bethany stood dumbfounded in the empty living room, hands covering her bare chest, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.
She didn’t know if what had just transpired could be considered mutual; she only knew that she had truly fallen for Sullivan. She loved his smile, the way he spoke, his unfathoma
