Free What He Left Behind by L. A. Witt

them instead of me. “So I’m still not too sure about touching. Or being touched.” He exhales sharply. “It’s stupid, but there it is.”
    “It’s not stupid.” I manage to keep the venom out of my voice—that’s all for Steve, not Michael. “After what you’ve been through…”
    Michael shudders. “Anyway, if you’re really okay with baby steps…” He raises his eyebrows.
    “Absolutely. Your pace.”
    “Okay. Good. Because I’m thinking a small step to start with would be a massage.”
    “Oh. I hadn’t even thought of that. That’s a really good idea.”
    Some of the apprehension vanishes from his expression. “Why don’t I start by giving you one, and we’ll see where it goes from there?”
    I grin. “I’m not going to say no to a massage from you.”
    Michael hesitates, but then he lets himself smile just enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Bedroom?”
    “Lead the way.”
    Walking into Michael’s bedroom is weird as hell. I’ve been in here plenty of times—Ian and I helped him move in, and I’ve taken care of his dog while he was out of town—but never under this pretense. My nerve endings tingle. God knows how this is going to play out tonight, and how far this is going to go. Just being here stirs something in me—excitement about being with Michael, uncertainty about whether this will be a good step or an unmitigated disaster, guilt over going to bed with one man while I’m wearing a wedding ring for another.
    Tonight, I’m almost hoping he doesn’t work up the courage to take this very far because I’m probably too nervous to get it up. Back when we had sex the first time, I was nervous as hell, but I had teenage hormones as an ace up my sleeve. Now? Not so much. And I’m sure that’s exactly what Michael’s psyche needs—trying to conquer his fear of sex with someone who can’t get or stay hard.
    Oblivious to my worries, Michael picks up a bottle of oil off the dresser. “I’ve had this stuff for ages, but never used it.” He tears the plastic seal around the lid with his thumb and peels it off. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”
    “Not that I’m aware of. What’s in it?”
    He looks at the label. “Sunflower seed oil, some sort of flower extract, and—wait.” He looks closer. “Crap. I don’t know if this stuff is condom safe.” His eyes flick up and meet mine. “Is that okay?”
    I study him for a moment. “Do you think we’ll get far enough tonight to need condoms?”
    Michael tenses. “Um…”
    “One step at a time.” I smile. “I just don’t want you to think we have to get that far tonight.” Especially since I don’t know if I’m going to make it that far tonight.
    He swallows but then relaxes slightly. “Okay. Yeah, I don’t know. One thing at a time, right?”
    “One thing at a time.” I gently take the bottle and set it on the dresser. Then I close my hands around his. He straightens, pulling in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t jerk away. Holding both his hand and his gaze, I quietly say, “There’s no pressure tonight, Michael. We only have to go as far as you’re comfortable.”
    He swallows. “I guess I…” His eyes lose focus, and then he shakes himself. “I don’t know.”
    “Relax.” I smile. “It’s me.”
    “I know it is.” His expression is deadly serious. “I don’t think I could handle being here with anyone else.”
    Jesus. What did that asshole do to you?
    His thumb rubs back and forth along mine. “For, uh, future reference, though, do you think we need to use condoms?”
    I consider it for a moment. “Well, I haven’t been with anyone but Ian in years. It’s up to you.”
    “I’ve been tested.” He shrugs. “I’m okay without them if you are. And if Ian won’t object.”
    “Since we won’t have to worry about it tonight, why don’t I talk to him later?”
    Michael nods. “Good idea.”
    “For the moment, though…” I glance at the massage oil, and when I grin at