DON’T GO.
Those two words whisper in my mind when I go to the dining hall early to eat dinner. I sit with Lara and Brooke, not really listening as they gossip about everyone in our class.
Once I’m done with dinner, I head back to my room, those same two words pounding a rhythm in my brain as I walk, the sidewalk slushy and wet from the melting snow. The sky is already dark, and soon, it’ll freeze over.
Hopefully I won’t break my neck when I head over to Crew’s.
No. Don’t go.
I take a shower and wash my hair. Shave my legs and every other area I can think of. Slather my favorite body lotion all over my skin. Blow dry my hair, curling the ends with my rounded brush. Put a thin layer of mascara on my lashes and rub my favorite lip balm across my lips. The one that makes them pinker.
I put on the prettiest underwear I own—a pair of pink cotton panties with a lacy waistband and a bralette I somehow convinced my mother to let me purchase a few years ago when we went shopping together. It’s white and lacy and I’ve never worn it.
Until now.
My intent is clear. I’m going to Crew’s and I’m wearing the sexiest underwear I own, which isn’t that sexy, but whatever.
I’m trying.
Once I slip on a black hoodie and my favorite pair of black leggings, I pull on an old pair of black UGG boots, I don’t mind getting wet in the snow, and then throw on my puffer coat, going to the mirror so I can check out my outfit.
Boring. Normal. I don’t look any different. I definitely don’t look like a girl who’s hoping a boy will slip his hand in her panties again.
An aggravated noise leaves me and I grab my phone and my dorm building pass, locking my door before I leave.
No one notices me walk out. Not even the RA who sits at the front desk. She’s too busy fielding questions from a group of girls surrounding her desk, and I didn’t care enough to stand around and listen to what they were complaining about.
It’s cold and dark, and I walk carefully along the sidewalk, noting how slippery it is. No one else is out, and there’s mist in the air, making me grateful I wore my hat. I pull up the hood on my sweatshirt, giving my freshly dried hair double protection.
Crew’s room is in one of the old buildings that used to house staff who lived on campus. Now there are a few suites for Lancaster family members, but it’s mostly used for storage. I’ve never been out here.
Not once.
I tug on the cold metal door handle, opening the door, the creaking sound loud in the otherwise quiet. The moment I’m inside, there’s a hushed quality to the lobby, reminding me that it’s just me and Crew out here. No one else.
A trickle of fear runs through me, but I push it aside. He’s proven that he knows how to be nice to me, though I’ve witnessed his anger and meanness too.
Maybe that’s half the appeal. I never know what I’m going to get when I’m with him.
I walk down the hall, spotting an open door up ahead, the light from within the room shining onto the floor. Suddenly he appears, standing there in the beam of light, looking way too handsome in a navy hoodie that looks just like mine and a pair of gray sweats with the Property of Lancaster Prep logo on his right hip.
“You made it.” He smiles faintly as I draw closer. “Didn’t think you’d show.”
“I didn’t think I would either,” I answer truthfully. I stop directly in front of him. “Should I leave?”
“You want to?” Before I answer, he adds, “Don’t think too hard about it. Just say yes or no.”
“No.” I straighten my spine. “I don’t want to leave.”
He holds his hand out toward his room. “Then come in.”
I enter the suite, glancing around, trying to take it all in. The room is huge. There’s a massive bed in the center of it, at least a king-size, with nightstands flanking either side of it, both lamps lit. There’s a desk to the left with an expensive chair, and a dresser to the right. An open doorway to the right of the bed leads to a bathroom.
“Your room is nice,” I say, feeling nervous.
“Thanks.” He comes toward me. “Want to take off your coat?”
“Oh. Yes.” Crew helps me out of it and I smile up at him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t look so scared, Birdy. It’s just a movie.” He takes my coat and hangs it on the rack by his door, which he shuts.
And locks.
I notice the laptop sitting in the middle of his bed. “Where are we watching the movie?”
“Thought we could kick it on my bed,” he suggests, his tone casual.
“Your bed?” I squeak out, trying to swallow down my nervousness.
“I won’t try anything you don’t want me to,” he says.
See, that’s the problem. I might want him to try all sorts of things…
“No, that’s fine.” I play it off because I can. I’m not scared of him. Or of this—connection that’s growing between us. It’s overwhelming, and okay, it’s a little frightening too, but I’m so tired of being scared of boys and kissing and naked bodies and sex.
It’s natural. I’m almost an adult. Less than a month until my 18th birthday. Shouldn’t I have kissed a couple of boys by now? Fallen in love, only for the boy to break my heart into a million pieces?
Not that I want my heart broken, but I should be further along than this.
“You want any snacks?” He heads over to a shelf I didn’t notice when I first came inside, and I realize there’s a mini fridge in his suite. He grabs a bag of popcorn off the shelf, along with a box of Milk Duds, handing them over to me. “I’ve got more.”
I take the bag of popcorn from him. “We can share.”
“Want anything to drink?” He bends down and opens the mini fridge, and I see a few bottles of water and cans of Coke. A couple of bottles of beer.
“Just water, please.”
When he stands and hands me the water bottle, I take it from him with a murmured thank you, our gazes locking. He seems nervous. To have me in his room?
This is very un-Crew-like of him.
I watch him settle in on the bed first. He’s got a pile of pillows and he leans against one stack, then pats the empty spot beside him. “Sit down.”
I set my bottle of water on the nightstand before I join him, tossing the bag of popcorn in his direction. He catches it, settling it next to him before he leans over and grabs his laptop.
Leonardo DiCaprio’s face is huge across the screen, elegant in a tuxedo, his golden hair swept to the side.
“Ready to play, just like I promised,” Crew says, and when he glances over at me, I smile.
“Push play then. I have to be back in my dorm by—” I check the time on his laptop. “A little over three hours.”
“You showed up early.”
“I was worried it would take me a while to walk over here. The sidewalks are getting slick.”
“It’s cold out there.”
“Nice and warm in here though.”
He says nothing. Just hits the space bar on his laptop and the movie starts playing. He holds it in his lap, angling it toward me and I give in to comfort, leaning my head against the pillows behind me, rolling on my side as I reach for the bag of popcorn. I tear it open, grabbing a handful before I hand it over to him, and we share it, occasionally dipping our hands inside at the same time, our fingers colliding. Tangling.
I’m achingly aware of his presence, and I can’t even concentrate on the movie, though Crew was right. It’s visually stunning, and I want to pay attention, but he’s a complete distraction.
He’s so close, I could reach out and touch him easily. I study his face, the way his hair falls over his forehead, and he keeps shoving it back. He smells fresh and clean, as if he took a shower before I arrived, and I’m half-tempted to bury my face in his neck, so I can inhale his scent.
Crew changes position, mimicking mine, resting his head on a stack of pillows and lying on his side. He sets the laptop in between us before he glances over at me to find I’m already watching him.
And I don’t look away. It’s like I can’t.
His gaze drops to my mouth, lingering there before he finally looks me in the eyes. “You shouldn’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” I whisper, my skin prickling with awareness when he reaches over and pushes my hair away from my face, his touch so gentle, I briefly close my eyes, savoring his closeness. The fact that I’m here with Crew. Just the two of us. Lying on his bed.
It goes against everything I’ve ever said. Every girl I’ve looked down upon for succumbing to a boy. How weak I thought they were.
Now I’m just as weak as them, and I understand.
I get it.
“Like you want me to kiss you,” he murmurs as he traces my jaw with his fingertips. “Open your eyes, Birdy.”
I do as he says, sucking in a breath when I see how close his face is to mine.
“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs, drifting his thumb across my bottom lip. “I thought you hated me.”
“I did,” I say with hesitation.
He smiles, the sight of it warming my insides. “I hated you too.”
“Why?” I’m genuinely curious. “I never did anything to you.”
“You came onto campus a complete stranger. No one knew who the hell you were, yet they all wanted to know you. Wanted to get closer to you, copy you, be your friend. It annoyed me.” A flash of irritation appears in his eyes, there and gone in an instant.
His words make me feel bad. Does he still feel that way about me? I didn’t like him because he would always glare at me. He scared me.
“I thought you were full of shit. No one could be that sweet, that nice, that beautiful. I figured you were hiding a dark, ugly secret.” He curls his fingers around my chin, tipping my head up. “But you’re not. You really are that sweet.”
I frown. “I’m not always sweet.”
“I know.” He leans in, his mouth barely touching mine. “Sometimes you’re dirty, aren’t you? You liked it when I had my fingers inside you.”
A shuddery breath leaves me and he kisses me again, his mouth lingering, his tongue sliding out for a teasing lick before he pulls away. “You were so wet.”
My cheeks go hot. It’s embarrassing, how he’s bringing up every mortifying detail of that afternoon.
“Wet for me,” he whispers into my mouth before he kisses me deep, his tongue thrusting, stroking against mine. He scoots closer, his foot kicking the laptop shut, cutting off the movie, so there’s nothing but silence in the room. The only sound is of our lips connecting. The rustle of clothing as he pulls me into him, a sigh falling from my lips when he kisses my throat.
“You drove me crazy in class today,” he admits against my neck.
I wrap my arms around him, daring to slip my hand beneath his sweatshirt, so I can touch his hot, bare skin. “How?”
“With that damn lollipop. The way you kept licking it. You don’t even want to know what I imagined you really doing.” He lifts his head so his gaze meets mine.
“Tell me what you wanted me to—” He silences me with his lips, stealing another deep, tongue-thrusting kiss before he breaks away, his breath hot in my ear.
“I imagined you doing the same thing to my cock.” He nips my earlobe, making me whimper. Or maybe that’s just his words making me feel that way. Needy and restless and wanting more than just his kisses. “You’d be on your knees in front of me, sucking me off. Licking me like that lollipop.”
I never thought I wanted to do anything like that but the visual he’s putting in my head is making me throb between my thighs. “You think I’d be any good at it?”
“I know you would.” He rolls me over, so he’s lying half on top of me, his mouth on mine, kissing me as if he can’t get enough. I kiss him back with matched enthusiasm, running my hand up and down his lower back, marveling at how smooth he is. How warm.
I want to get closer.
The heater is going full force in the room and I start to get hot. Hotter. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Crew is lying on top of me and he’s as hot as a furnace, I don’t know. I wish I could take off my hoodie. But I didn’t wear a T-shirt underneath and it’s not like I can wear my bralette and my leggings while we’re kissing.
Or maybe I could…
“Fuck this, I’m burning up.” Crew leaps off the bed and goes to turn down the heat before he rips off his hoodie, revealing he doesn’t have a shirt on underneath his either. I sit up, blatantly staring at him, my gaze darting everywhere, not sure where to land first.
All the air seems to back up in my throat, leaving me unable to speak. His body is beautiful. There’s no other way to describe it. Broad shoulders. Wide, firm chest. Sculpted pecs and the lightest bit of chest hair in the center. Not a lot. Just enough to make me curious.
Make me want to touch it.
His stomach is washboard flat, and ripples with muscle when he moves. There’s a thin path of dark hair just below his navel, trailing into the waistband of his sweats, and I’m suddenly filled with the urge to follow that path with my fingers. Slip my hand beneath the front of his sweats. Touch his thick, hot—
“You’re staring, Birdy.” His deep voice settles between my legs, pulsating. Reminding me of what he did to me with his fingers the last time we were together.
A shiver moves through me at the memory.
“You’re shirtless, Crew.”
He glances down at himself, rubbing his hand across his rib cage before he returns his gaze to mine. “Does it bother you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m just—”
“Shocked?”
“I didn’t expect it.” I squeeze my thighs together, feeling…
Achy.
Needy.
“I don’t want to watch this movie anymore.” He leans over and grabs his laptop, setting it on top of his desk. He doesn’t rejoin me on the bed.
“Me either,” I admit softly.
We stare at each other for a moment and I let my gaze drop to his chest again, fascinated. My fingers literally itch to touch him and I sink my teeth into my lower lip, trying to fight the feelings coursing through me.
The pretense of hanging out with Crew to watch a movie for class is long over. The make-out session proves that. I know why he invited me over. And I know why I showed up.
“Come here,” he demands, and I don’t protest.
Why would I?
I climb off the bed and walk toward him, letting him take my hand. He pulls me in close. I reach out, resting my hand on his side, his hot flesh burning my palm, and I lift my head to find him already watching me, his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
“I got you a treat.”
“What is it?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Blow Pop. Cherry flavored.
My favorite.
I lift my gaze to his. “Why did you get me a lollipop?”
I know why he did. I just want to hear him say it.
Crew leans in close, his mouth right at my ear, making me shiver. “I want to watch you suck it.”
My entire body flushes hot. “Why?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you in class, sucking on that Blow Pop. How fucking sexy you looked. How red your lips and tongue got from licking the candy.” He nuzzles my face with his. “I want to kiss those pretty red lips,” he whispers in my ear. “Taste you.”
I’m breathless when he pulls away, a smirk on his face as he pulls the wrapper off the sucker and tosses it over his shoulder.
“Crew—” I’m about to give him a lecture about littering, but he cuts me off.
“Suck.” He rubs the lollipop across my lips. Back and forth. Tracing their shape. I part them and he slides the candy just inside. “Do it, Birdy.”
I wrap my lips around the Blow Pop, sucking on it. His eyes are fixed on my mouth, and they flare with interest.
“Show me your tongue. Lick it.” He pulls the candy from my mouth but leaves it resting there.
As usual, Crew is taking something that started out as innocent—and something I do often—and turned it into something dirty.
For some reason, I don’t mind. I want to do this.
I want to show him what I can do with a lollipop.
Pushing past the embarrassment, I slowly circle the top of the candy with my tongue, our gazes locking, my heart racing. I close my eyes and lap at the candy, enveloping it with my lips before I let it pop out again.
“Jesus,” he mutters, sounding pained. I open my eyes to find his tortured expression, and a heady rush flows through me, along with a realization.
There’s power in sex. In me and my sexuality. I was always so scared of it. Afraid I’d give myself to the wrong person. That I’d be humiliated and ashamed of sharing my body with someone who didn’t deserve it.
And maybe Crew Lancaster doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve me, but I’m giving myself to him anyway. I’ve given him a part of myself already, and by participating in this now, tonight, I’m about to give him another piece.
I can see it in his eyes that he wants me, and that’s heady stuff. That he feels as strongly as I do.
Because I want him too.
Crew removes the sucker from my mouth and kisses me, his tongue thrusting in between my lips, a groan sounding low in his throat. That same hungry sound he always makes when he kisses me, as if I he can’t get enough. I open to him, letting him devour me, my tongue sliding against his. He sucks on it, and I run my hands up his chest, marveling at the strength I feel shifting beneath my hands. Smooth warm skin and hard, unyielding muscle. That tease of soft hair between his pecs.
He breaks the kiss first, breathing hard as he stares at me. “You taste like cherries.”
I nod, my mind empty, my entire body tingling. I stare at his mouth, rising up so I can press my lips to his once again, and he cups the back of my head, letting me take control. I test the varying ways I can kiss a boy. Soft. Hard. I bite his lower lip, and he growls.
The sound only encourages me to bite harder.
I suck his upper lip between mine. Trace the shape with the tip of my tongue. Thrust my tongue between his lips, sliding it against his. Grip his head with my hands, running my fingers through his silky hair.
His hands come to my hips, guiding me toward his bed and I let him, not thinking. Not caring.
Once I lie back down on that bed with him, anything could happen.
Anything.
I end up sitting on the edge of the mattress, Crew standing in front of me, his erection stretching the front of his sweatpants, practically in my face. I stare at it. He’s so big. Thick.
I wonder what he wants me to do with it.
“Don’t look so scared.” His voice is low and growly and so incredibly sexy. “Tonight is all about you.”
I watch as he grabs the bag of popcorn and drops it on the floor, the bag tipping over, spilling popcorn everywhere. He doesn’t seem to care.
His focus is one hundred percent on me.
Before I can think too hard, he’s practically on top of me, my back against the mattress, Crew rising above me, darkly handsome, and all mine.
At least for tonight.
From out of nowhere, the lollipop returns, and he drags it across my lips. I dart my tongue out, licking it with enthusiasm and I swear I can feel his erection thickening against my leg.
“You’re talented with that tongue,” he rasps.
I laugh, heady power coursing through my veins. Then I give the sucker another good lick.
“I have an idea,” he says, reaching for the hem of my hoodie. “Let’s take this off.”
Panic slices through me, and I rest my hand on top of his, stopping him. “Wait.”
He takes off my hoodie and things will shift even more between us. Though they’ve already changed after what happened before. When he slipped his fingers inside my panties and stroked me until I was moaning, straining toward him like the weak girl I apparently am.
He goes still, his gaze finding mine. “I won’t push you. You know that.”
Fear trickles down my spine. I want to trust him. I did in that secret room in the library, when he had his fingers between my thighs.
“What do you want to do?” I ask.
“Take your shirt off. Your bra.” His gaze darkens the longer he stares at me.
I melt at his words, how simple yet effective they are. What he said shouldn’t sound so good, but it does.
Removing my hand from his, I nod, giving him permission.
He takes the sweatshirt off, pulling it over my head and tossing it aside. I’m lying there in just my delicate lacy bralette, my nipples straining against the thin fabric, my entire body growing hot when he stares at my chest.
Without warning, he bends down, dragging his mouth across one breast, his tongue darting out to lick the stiffened nipple over the lace. He reaches for the front of my bralette, undoing the clasp, and the cups spring free, exposing me completely.
He lifts away, staring down at my bared chest, his hands moving to shove the straps from my shoulders. I squirm out of it, pushing the bralette out of my way, breathing a sigh of relief when he returns his attention to my chest, his mouth everywhere, trailing fire wherever it touches, making me whimper when he pulls one nipple into his mouth and sucks it deep.
I’m lost to the sensation of his lips. Pulling and tugging. His hot tongue licking. Circling. He lifts his head from my breasts, the lollipop somehow still in his hand and he holds it toward my mouth.
“Suck it.”
I do as he says, giving it a good lick before he pulls it away, bringing it to my breasts, dragging the shiny damp candy across my nipple. Circling it over and over.
Then he drops his head and sucks my nipple back into his mouth.
Groaning, I shove my hands into his hair, holding him close.
He keeps up his torture as if he enjoys driving me out of my mind with lust. Toying with my flesh with the candy. Rubbing it against my nipples. Sucking and nibbling and driving me crazy. He pays so much attention to my breasts, I soon become restless, my legs working. Scissoring, trying to stave off the painful throbbing between my legs. I’m wet. Drenched from his attention, and when he finally reaches for the waistband of my leggings, I practically sob with relief.
Finally, I think.
“I’m going to do something,” he says like a warning, and I go completely still. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
When someone tells you not to freak out, you want to do exactly that. “O-okay.”
He lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “I mean it. It’s going to feel good. Trust me.”
I nod, closing my eyes when he yanks my leggings down my legs, his hands caressing my exposed flesh. They fall onto the floor with a soft plop and then he’s kissing his way up my body. The inside of my knees. The tops of my thighs. When his mouth lands on the front of my panties, I throw my arm across my eyes, the slightest bit ashamed.
But I’m also aroused. A flood of moisture escapes me, and I know I’m embarrassingly wet. I don’t even care, though.
I can’t.
The sucker is back in play. He rubs it against the front of my panties, pressing hard. “I’m going to take these off.” His fingers slip beneath the waistband. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
I don’t protest. I want him to take them off. I want to see what he might do next. I have no clue. This is all so new to me, and I have no experience. I’m surprised he hasn’t told me to stop because, surely, I’ve done something stupid by now.
He tugs the panties from my waist. I keep my arm over my eyes as he pulls them off, until I’m completely naked in front of him.
“So beautiful, Birdy,” he whispers reverently, his hands curving around my hips. My waist. Goosebumps rise on my skin, from the combination of his touch and the chill in the air since he turned off the heat. “Do you even know how gorgeous you are?”
I say nothing. Can only revel in his compliments. The sweetness in his voice when he talks about me. As if he cares.
As if I matter to him.
He takes the sucker and pops it into his mouth. I can hear him sucking on it before he pulls it free.
“Need to get it nice and wet first,” he whispers, his words sounding extra filthy.
Just before he brushes it against my most private spot.
I cry out, shock and pleasure racing over my skin.
“Spread your legs,” he commands, and I automatically do it, putting myself on complete display. “Look at me.”
I remove my arm from my eyes and slowly open them to find him kneeling between my spread legs, his eyes locked with mine as he holds the sucker up. He licks it, his tongue lapping at it in an overexaggerated way before he pulls the Blow Pop from his mouth and returns it to the spot between my thighs.
A shuddery moan leaves me. I’ve never made a sound like that before, but Oh. My. God. It feels so wrong, so good—what he’s doing to my body with the lollipop.
I’ll never look at a Blow Pop the same way again.
He traces me everywhere with the candy. Through my folds. Across my clit. Up and down, around and around until he pauses at my entrance before slowly inserting the sucker just inside my body.
“Does that hurt?” he asks.
“N-no.” I shake my head.
He pushes it in farther. A whimper leaves me, and I close my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me as he pulls the sucker almost all the way out before sliding it back in.
In and out.
In and out.
Crew removes the candy and I open my eyes in time to watch him slip the lollipop back into his mouth, tasting me. My lips part. I can’t believe he just did that.
I want him to keep doing it.
He does, thank God. He teases my clit with the sucker, rubbing it in tight circles, ratcheting up my pleasure. My entire body is liquid, loose and languid and completely out of my control. I’m melting into the mattress, completely undone, and when he thrusts the sucker back inside my body, I lift my hips, wanting it to go deeper, though I know it won’t.
It’s too small.
“Jesus, do you know how fucking sexy you are, letting me fuck you with this Blow Pop?” He does exactly that with the candy, and just when I begin to move with him, he pulls it out, holding the lollipop out toward me. “Want a taste?”
Do I? I’m about to ask if I do, but when I part my lips, he slips the candy between them.
Tentatively, I suck on it, tasting the cherry and myself mixed together. A hint of salt and sour with the sweet.
“Fucking hot,” he murmurs, his gaze on me as I continue to suck on the lollipop. When he removes it from my mouth, his lips come crashing down on mine. He kisses me with a ferocity I don’t expect and I drown in his taste, in his fierceness. His need.
He’s on top of me, slowly thrusting against me in time with his searching tongue, his erection pressed directly against my center. I spread my legs wider, accommodating him. I’m naked and wet and aching, and it’s as if he’s the only one who can take care of me.
He’s the only one who can fulfill my needs.
“Wren,” he whispers once he breaks the kiss, sliding his mouth down my neck. “I want to make you come.”
“I’m so close,” I admit, tingling when he lifts his head so he can stare into my eyes. “I am.”
“You didn’t come last time.”
I press my lips together, remembering how I ran away from him. “I got scared.”
The feeling was so overwhelming, I didn’t know how to deal with it.
He kisses me, his lips gentle. “I’m going to make you feel good.”
A steely determined glint fills his eyes and then he’s sliding down my body, his mouth and hands everywhere. The sucker leaves a sticky trail across my skin, but I don’t mind. I raise my arms above my head, gripping the pillow resting there, lifting my hips. My body knows what it wants without having any experience, and when Crew pauses, his gaze lifts to mine, dark and full of promise.
“Did it look like this?”
I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”
“That porn you watched. When he went down on her.” His gaze becomes hotter the longer he watches me.
“This is better,” I admit, and he smiles.
Just before he settles his mouth on me.
A ragged sigh leaves me and I thrust my hands in his hair, holding him to me as he devours my flesh. His tongue licks and teases. He thrusts it inside me, pulling out. Pushing in.
It feels so good, but it doesn’t seem like enough.
He slips the sucker between my thighs, thrusting it inside me before he pulls it out, rubbing it along my folds. I’m whimpering, my eyes falling closed, the sensations overwhelming me again, just like last night.
But I push through, straining toward release, my mouth falling open on a silent scream as he increases his pace, his face smashed against me, his mouth working me into a frenzy. He replaces the sucker with a finger, pushing inside, and I cry out. When he adds another finger, I practically scream.
It’s too much. It’s not enough. My muscles are taut, my skin coated in sweat, and when he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, that’s all it takes.
I’m coming. My body shudders uncontrollably as I chant his name, smashing my lower body against his face. I’m helpless, completely out of control, and he grips my hips, holding me to him as he continues his delicious assault.
It’s as if I’m in complete freefall. I have no sense of control over my body. I’m trembling, drawing air in big gulps, my heart beating so hard it feels like it could fly out of my chest.
I try to push him away, my skin so sensitive his attention almost hurts, and he does what I silently request, pulling away from me. I peek down to witness Crew rubbing his hand against the side of his face, and when he drops it, I see that his skin and mouth shine.
From me.
He catches me watching, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. I’m still shivering, my breathing erratic, my heart racing. I wish he’d say something.
Anything.
He moves, so he’s lying beside me, his hand on my hip, pulling me toward him. I go easily, still boneless as he tucks me into his body. His mouth is at my forehead, his fingers in my hair when he murmurs, “You okay?”
I nod, curling into him, pressing my cheek to his chest. I need him to hold me. To say the right things. To reassure me that I’m going to be all right.
I don’t feel all right. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. As if the world had shut its doors to me all this time, and I finally caught a glimpse inside.
To find it’s all I could ever want.
