Free The Replacement by Rachael Wade

you were serious about me moving in with you.”
    He pushes my shirt up and bites just above my navel, his hands dropping down my hips to cup my ass. “Of course I am.”
    “Why do you want to live with me?”
    He laughs, but it’s cut off by a moan when he hits the apex of my thighs. The heat swells, sending me closer to the edge, and I involuntarily buck against his mouth. “You’re a dirty, filthy girl, and I fucking love you for it, baby.” He nuzzles his nose against me, blowing hot breath between my thighs. I nearly convulse on the spot, but I steel myself up and focus.
    “Christian, answer me.”
    “What kind of question is that?”
    “An important one.”
    He seems to realize I’m not giving up on this and his movements finally slow. He exhales and tilts his head back to look up at me. He rises and his chest is heaving as he stares down at me. “Doesn’t this answer it for you?”
    “Doesn’t what answer it for me?”
    “This.” He removes his hot hands from my body only long enough to wave between us. “Us. You and me. The way you respond to my touch. Have you ever felt this way with anyone? Because I sure as hell haven’t.”
    “So…you want me to move in with you based on what, the way you touch me?”
    “Elise,” he pushes out a breath full of frustration, “what are you getting at, baby?”
    “I want to know why you want to be with me. What do I have that Kylie doesn’t have? What, I’m better in bed than her?”
    “That’s not—” he huffs in disbelief, “that’s not what this is. You’re not hearing me. This chemistry transcends the physical. But we don’t need words. We don’t need talking. We only need this.” His hands plant firmly on my hips and he presses his erection harder against me, eliciting a whimper from somewhere deep in my throat.
    Why does he have to be so damn good at that?
    “We can’t survive off of that alone. It doesn’t work that way.”
    “Of course it does.” He blinks, looking at me as if this is a no-brainer. “Think about how many people share a marriage based on other compatibilities, but there’s nothing deeper. No passion. There’s none of this.” He lifts a hand and pinches my nipple between his fingers. I groan. “I would know, Elise. I’ve been in one of those marriages for five years now. There’s no such thing as a perfect relationship, married or not. When you find a connection like we have, you recognize it. You grab hold of it and take it for all its worth. You don’t let it slip between your fingers.”
    “What if that connection’s not enough?”
    “There’s no such thing as enough. It’s an illusion.”
    “What happens when someone else comes along? When this grows dull?”
    “It won’t,” he insists, stunned, like I can’t possibly be saying what I’m saying to him right now. “No one can ever replace you.”
    “You say that now.”
    His nostrils flare and he tilts his forehead to meet mine, staring me square in the eyes. “You’re a keeper. Not a substitute or a flavor of the week, baby.”
    “Why do you want me? You don’t know me.”
    His eyes burn with determination, but he comes up pitifully short. “Because we fit.”
    “Simple as that?” It comes out quietly.
    “Simple as that.”
    A lump forms in my throat and a civil war breaks out, wreaking havoc on my mind. He’s giving me all he’s got. He’s not being cold or insincere, or even dishonest. He’s 100 percent genuine about his perception of us. What we are, what we’ve been, and what we will be, if we stay together.
    But it’s not enough.
    And I think he’s right. Enough doesn’t exist. Even if I want it to, it doesn’t, and it probably never will. So where does that leave me? Where does it leave us? Right now, it leaves me against a wall with an Adonis of a man worshiping my body like I’m the shrine of an adored idol. Right now, there’s nothing else.
    For now, that has to be more than enough.
    ***
    I leave Christian’s house