Mine to Crave

Sure, he has biceps the size of my thick thighs and a rugged lumberjack exterior that satisfies all of my fantasies about climbing a man like a tree, but I'm not looking for a relationship—especially with a confirmed bachelor.

Besides, I'm also happily single and don't plan to change that. Ever.

Maybe it’s my hyper independence that keeps me firmly in bachelorette territory…

Or maybe it’s that every relationship in my family has devolved into a bitter, messy divorce and turned those of us within blast radius into jaded bystanders.

Still, Michael Kemp is fun to play with.

I crave him like a puppy craves a treat.

We can mess around and enjoy each other until something else comes along, right?

Even if I do catch feelings, he never has to know.

So why do I feel like he’s the one who not only caught feelings, but is ready to walk down the aisle? Is it the lusty haze and afterglow of our red hot attraction making him believe he feels things for me that he can’t possibly feel?

Is that also what makes me feel like I can’t breathe when we’re apart?

I have to call off whatever this is before one of us gets hurt, only he’s not making it easy.

He says we fit together inexplicably.

He says he craves my touch, my time, my insatiable spirit.

He says I’m his.

But can I accept that he is mine?