Page 84 of Dublin Ink

He was still in his jeans, his bulge still straining against his zipper.

I reached for it. He grabbed my hand, laced his fingers with mine and pressed them to his stomach.

I tried to tug my hand away but he wouldn’t let me.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He was silent. I glanced up to find him worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, his gaze cast to the wall.

His only reply was a squeeze of my hand and a kiss on my head. “Go to sleep.”

“But you’re still—”

“Sleep, Aurnia.”