Chapter 10: Ninety Days Is a Long Time

"Then break it," I said again, because he hadn't moved.

His forehead stayed against mine.

"You don't get to say that to me and take it back in the morning."

"I won't take it back."

"Ninety days is a long time to keep a rule," Cosimo said, in a rough voice, and I heard my own words come back at me.

I laughed against his mouth.

Then I kissed him again, and this time I did not let him stop.

I unbuttoned his shirt with my good hand, one button at a time, slowly, because I wanted him to feel it.

He stood there and let me.

His chest was hot under my palm, harder than I remembered, with a new scar low on his ribs.

"What's this one?"

"Rule two."

"You're going to hide behind that rule all night, aren't you?"

"I'm going to let you take my shirt off," he said, "and see how long you last."

I pushed it off his shoulders and it hit the floor.

I put my mouth on his collarbone and he made a sound I felt in my own stomach.

My hand went down his chest, over his belt, and I cupped him through his trousers.

He was already hard.

He groaned, low, and his head dropped.

"Lydia."

"Say it again."

"Lydia."

I undid his belt.

I got his zipper down, and I pushed my hand inside, and wrapped my fingers around his cock.

It was thick and hot and heavy in my palm.

He braced one hand on the shelf above my head, and the books shook.

"Five years," I said. "And you still do that when I touch you."

"Do what?"

"Stop breathing."

I stroked him once, slowly, from base to tip, and his hips jerked into my fist.

That was when he took over.

He caught my wrist and pinned it above my head against the shelf, the bandaged one, and he was careful of the cut even then.

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