Текст книги "Exposed"
Автор книги: Brighton Walsh
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
Chapter Thirteen
RILEY
Even though I didn’t want to, even though I wanted to stay inside her, wait until I got hard again and fuck her all over again, I gripped the base of my cock, holding the condom in place—thanking God I’d had one in my wallet—as I pulled out of her, groaning at the loss of her heat.
After placing a soft kiss on her shoulder, I walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up before heading back to her. She’d moved away from the wall, but her back was to me, her shoulders stiff and practically up to her ears, and she was already tugging on her tiny little shorts. Before she could get her tank top over her head, I reached out and wrapped my hand around her arm, turning her toward me. Her skin was soft and I wanted to reacquaint myself with it. With her. I wanted to run my hands over every inch of her body, memorizing the things I’d forgotten and learning the ways she’d changed. She tensed under my hand, pausing in her movements as her tank top fell to the floor once again, but she wouldn’t look up at me, and fuck no, that wasn’t how this was going to go down.
With my other arm, I reached out, curling my hand around the back of her neck, using my thumb under her chin to tilt her face toward mine. That mask was in place again, that shuttered look in her eyes, and I wanted it gone. Erased. I wanted it to be like I’d seen when I’d kissed her. When I’d had her back against the wall, then again when she’d reversed our positions. When I’d been on the floor, my mouth on her pussy while she’d stared down at me.
That was my Evie. The woman here, looking at me with her blank eyes, was Genevieve, and I didn’t want her in my space. In our space.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction.
The old Riley would’ve let it drop. But the old Riley wasn’t here anymore, and I was going to push to find out where her head was, because something didn’t add up. Something about her relationship with her fiancé didn’t make sense.
If Evie was my fiancée, if she’d agreed to marry me, if I’d had her in my bed, I sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with a few fucking texts while I was across the ocean, thousands of miles away.
I tightened my fingers around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. Bending my knees so I was eye level with her, I said, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
She twisted away, out of my grasp, and glowered at me, crossing her arms over her naked breasts. “How is that bullshit? I’m engaged, Riley. Engaged.” She held her hand up to me, the too-big ring glinting obnoxiously on her slender finger. Like I needed that piece of jewelry as a reminder that she’d promised herself to another man. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she said, “And I just let my ex-boyfriend fuck me up against a wall. What part of that seems like a good idea to you?”
“I don’t know, the part where I was inside you seemed like a fan-fucking-tastic idea to me. And one I’d like to do again very soon.”
She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, and turned to grab her tank top once again. “I’m not discussing this with you. It was a mistake, plain and simple. And it’s not going to happen again. It’s over. It has to be.”
I went up behind her, gripping her upper arms, and pressed my cheek against hers. “This isn’t over, baby, and you know it. You want it as bad as I do.” I brushed my thumbs up and down her arms. “In fact, if I pulled you over to the couch and sat down, I bet I could tug you right on top of me, spread those legs, and get you to fuck me exactly how I want you to. Get you to ride me until you came as many times as you needed.”
She didn’t make a noise—she was too stubborn for that—but her teeth were digging harshly into her lower lip, and her breaths were getting more rapid, her chest heaving with each one. Her cheek was hot against mine, and I knew if I was facing her, if I could look into her eyes, I’d see the heavy swell of desire in them.
“You want that, don’t you? You want my cock all over again.” I turned my head and kissed her neck, and she let her head drop back against my shoulder, just like she’d done earlier. I swept my lips along her skin, swirling my tongue around her pulse point, and then continued until my mouth brushed her ear. “You want me, you loved every minute of that, and yet you’ve got that ring on your finger. I know as sure as I know my name that you’d never cheat. Not even with me. So I think it’s time you told me what the fuck is going on.”
EVIE
Riley’s body behind mine, against mine, his breath on my neck, being held safe in his arms, felt like coming home. Though not like any home I’d ever known. He felt like comfort and peace and happiness and safety, and I wanted to wrap myself up in the feeling, wrap myself up in him. I wanted to go boneless, let myself sink into his body, let him lead me over to the couch and proceed to do exactly as he’d described.
But I couldn’t.
Despite the need coursing through my veins, I’d made a promise to someone who meant a lot to me, and I couldn’t break that. Not even for Riley—the one person I’ve ever truly given the most of myself to. He hadn’t taken my virginity, but he’d been my first in all the ways that counted.
That night all those years ago, fumbling in the dark of his apartment, the rough material of the couch against my legs as I’d straddled him, staring down into his face, hadn’t been perfect, but it’d been perfect to me. Because with whispered words and grappling hands and that look—that heavy-lidded look that said I was his everything—he showed me that sex could be about more than just control.
And because of that, my relationship with him had been the one I’d compared everything else—everyone else—to.
In all honesty, nothing had even come close since him, not even Eric. In between my relationships with them, I’d never involved myself with a guy for more than a few hours in an anonymous bed somewhere—long enough to get that satisfaction I needed. Long enough to feel that power rushing through my veins, to feel like I was still the one in control of my body. My choices and only mine were what had led me to those beds, to those men.
I hadn’t felt that release in so long, though, and it was wearing on me. It would be easy to blame the fact that I’d slipped, that I’d allowed Riley inside me, on that, but that wasn’t it. And I wasn’t sure I was willing to write off our connection as a momentary lapse of judgment. I’d been cognizant of every decision I made, and this had been no different. I’d wanted him—still wanted him.
Clutching the tank top to my bare chest, I swallowed and closed my eyes. “I can’t tell you that.”
Riley stilled behind me, his hands tightening almost imperceptibly on my arms. Then he exhaled, his soft breath washing against my bare skin, and I shivered. “You can tell me anything. Anything. You know that.”
And I wanted to cry at his words. I wanted to turn around and press my face into his chest, breathe him in and exhale with every secret I’d ever been harboring. Because I so desperately wanted that to be true, for so many reasons. But I couldn’t trust that.
“It’s not my secret to tell.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, dropping his arms and coming around to face me. His eyes were hard, his jaw clenched, and he should’ve looked ridiculous standing there in front of me, all pissed-off man, buck naked and radiating anger. Instead he looked like everything I wanted to get lost in. “Whose secret is it? What the hell’s going on, Evie?”
When I didn’t say anything, didn’t open up any more, he stepped forward, bringing our bodies together. He cupped my face in his hands, leaning down until our noses were barely an inch apart, his eyes darting between mine. And they were so full of fear, so full of anxiety—for me.
For me.
“Are you in trouble? Is it more than this? Is something else going on? Baby, please. Tell me.” His thumbs stroked my cheeks reverently, like I was delicate. Like I’d break at any moment. Like he was scared I’d float away right in front of him or vanish into thin air.
The worry in his voice was what finally broke me. Riley had always been sincere, wearing his heart on his sleeve. And it was almost his detriment. It was also the one thing that got to me every time, broke down any walls I’d ever tried to keep between us.
All but one.
Shaking my head, I said, “I’m not in trouble. No more than you already know, anyway.”
His muscles relaxed the barest whisper, but his body was still coiled tight, the uncertainty still sitting heavily on his shoulders. “Then what? You can trust me, Evie. It’ll stay between us. I swear.”
I blew out a breath, seeing the honesty in his eyes, hearing it in his voice, and knew with my entire being that I could trust him. “What do you know about Eric?”
Chapter Fourteen
RILEY
“Has he hurt you? I swear to Christ, if that bastard’s hurt you, I’m going to kill him.”
“No, no … he’d never hurt me, Riley. Ever.” Her voice was sincere, her eyes clear. She reached out and brushed her hand down my side, resting it against my hip. “You don’t ever have to worry about that. But I need to hear what you know about him.”
I thought back to what Gage had filled me in on, the two of us going over the files he’d had while Madison and Evie had been in the back bedroom. Reaching up, I rubbed my thumb and forefinger over my eyes as I clenched them shut, trying to remember all the details. “Eric Caine, thirty-three, never been married. Son of Republican senator Caine. Followed in his dad’s footsteps when he enlisted in the army at eighteen. Then continued in his dad’s shadow as he went to law school once he was out and now works for the firm his father started—one of the biggest in Minneapolis. But he has plans to eventually go into politics. Again, just like his father.” I dropped my hand and raised an eyebrow. “How’d I do?”
She nodded. “You hit just about everything.”
I thought back to the files, going over all the pertinent details in them, and couldn’t remember anything that I’d left out. “What’d I miss?”
“I need you to promise me this stays between us. You can’t repeat it.”
I nodded, the sincerity in her voice telling me she wasn’t bullshitting. “Of course.”
“Not even to Gage.”
“Just between us. I can keep a secret, Evie. Especially one from you.”
She looked at me for a minute, her eyes darting between mine, then she took a deep breath and exhaled. “Eric’s gay.”
I could only stare at her. When the shock wore off enough for me to speak, I said, “He’s what now?”
She sighed and stepped back, finally tugging her tank top over her head—a shame to see her breasts covered up, but it was probably for the best, considering what had just come out of her mouth. I followed her lead and grabbed my boxers from the floor, stepping into them, then walked behind her to the couch. She sat sideways, one leg curled and tucked under the other, and I sat facing her, waiting for her to explain what the hell was going on.
She blew out a deep breath and said, “We met last year at a coffee shop. I was still in school full-time, so I worked part-time as a barista there for extra cash since I didn’t have much. Aaron had managed to work my new records so I was able to get a full scholarship, but that didn’t cover everything.”
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she glanced down at her lap, at where our knees touched, then looked back up at me. “Eric would come in every day and talk to me. He was so nice, not like some of the creeps who’d come in and hit on me, harass me, really. And one day, after about a month of nearly daily conversations, he asked me to dinner.”
Even after hearing Eric was gay, that didn’t stop my stomach from clenching while listening to the details of Evie going out on dates while we’d been apart. I hadn’t imagined she’d been abstinent in all that time, but knowing she hadn’t been and actually hearing about it were two very different things.
She rested her elbow on the back of the couch, settling her cheek against her hand, and continued, “Like I said, money was tight. He happened to catch me on a week when it was exceptionally tight, and I figured if nothing else, I could get a free meal out of it. So I went. And I was more surprised than anyone that I’d actually had a good time. The entire evening, he’d never tried anything physical with me, and it was refreshing. That was our first date, at least in the eyes of the public, and what started our dating life.
“We’d go out to dinner, smile and laugh—despite the lie our engagement is based on, we do have a real connection, so that was never faked. After four years of being alone, it felt nice to have someone to talk to again. And I’m not going to lie, it felt nice to not have to worry about money for once. I’d never had that, not once in my entire life, and not having to worry about it was this giant weight lifted off my shoulders. But there was never anything physical between us. Nothing more than brief kisses on the cheek—always inside my apartment, never in public. While we were in public, though, he was affectionate, just not sexually. He’d hold my hand, put his arm around me, lean in close when I was speaking, but there was no kissing, no PDA like that. And that had been when I’d started to get suspicious that something more was going on.”
I knew why she’d be suspicious. Evie was a fucking bombshell, especially now with her waves of red hair, with the features that had sharpened in the years we’d been apart, and she oozed sexuality, so for a man to have no interest in that … yeah, something was up.
She continued, “It all changed one night when we were out to dinner. I’d been in the bathroom and came out to see our waiter leaning toward Eric, slipping him a piece of paper. When I got to the table, Eric played it off, but I saw something when the waiter looked at him. Combined with how he acted around me, things were clicking into place. I had a pretty good idea what was going on, especially after he’d told me how strict his upbringing was, how conservative his parents were, and the role his father played in guiding his decisions. So I confronted Eric in the car before he dropped me off.”
“And he told you? Just like that?”
She nodded. “He took a chance. Told me he’d managed to keep the secret his entire life. And now, with his father a conservative senator and him looking to follow in his footsteps, he didn’t think he could come out. That was where I came in. He knew about my past—well, the past I created. But he knew I was alone, that I was struggling. He gave me an answer to that. We both got something out of it.”
My brow furrowed, because from where I was sitting, Evie didn’t get shit out of it. Eric was the one who got the picture-perfect trophy wife, all the while living a lie behind closed doors, which he would’ve done with or without her. All she got was trapped in a loveless relationship. “What the hell did you get out of it?”
“Security. I got the kind of life I never had growing up.”
“Yeah, but at a whole fuckton of sacrifices. You were willing to give up your life, your happiness, for someone else?”
“I didn’t give up my happiness…”
“Can you honestly tell me you’re happy with him? You’re happy in your life?”
She shook her head and looked at me, her eyes so heavy and sad, exhausted. “I haven’t been happy in a very long time, Riley. I didn’t think this made much of a difference. It was the best option I had, and it’s not all bad.”
I reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it between mine. “What do you need to be happy? What do you want?”
EVIE
His words settled over me, sank into my bones. It was something I hadn’t ever really let myself contemplate, but now that Riley was asking it, I faced the question I’d never truly considered. The question that would only ever bring pain, because to say what I’d want to make me happy would be admitting what made me sad, what made me ache, and I’d been trying for so long—years—to forget it, to push it back, bury it. Force it down and leave it in the past, where it belonged.
“I don’t know,” I said, averting my eyes and glancing out the window.
Riley reached out and gripped my chin between his forefinger and thumb, giving me no choice but to turn and face him. “That’s bullshit.” He leaned forward, staring straight into my eyes, and lowered his voice. “Now tell me what would make you happy.”
I blew out a breath, read the sincerity in his gaze, and let myself go down the path I’d avoided for so long. “I want to be safe.” Above anything, I always, always wanted to be safe, and I hadn’t truly been safe for so, so long. “I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder anymore. I want to be free to be Evie, not Genevieve. I want to be able to go into whatever kind of career I want, instead of one I hate simply because it will keep me under the radar. And I want to feel content and comfortable, be able to afford a nice life—not anything lavish, like I have now. That’s so much more than I ever needed, but I want to be comfortable.”
I’d managed to get that all out without even a single lie. Lying had become second nature for me, something I’d been doing for so long, it always surprised me when I was able to talk about anything involving my life and manage not to weave the truth and lies together into a convoluted version of what my reality was.
Riley was quiet for a while until he finally asked, “What about love?”
His question startled me enough that I could only blink at him in response. When I finally found my voice, I asked simply, “What?”
“Love,” he repeated. “That wouldn’t make you happy?”
Shaking my head, I dropped my eyes, not able to maintain contact with him. Because in them, I saw a thousand possibilities I’d lost when I’d walked away from him. “It’s not a matter of whether or not it’d make me happy. It’s a matter of whether or not I think it’s even a possibility for me.” I glanced up at him then, at the boy I’d loved so long ago, the boy I’d given my very soul to. The boy I’d walked away from. “I had it once. I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to have it again.”
Chapter Fifteen
RILEY
Through unspoken agreement, we’d migrated to opposite ends of the loft, spending some time alone after our talk—or as alone as we could be in the wide-open space. After the sun had set, we’d ventured out to the grocery store down the street, grabbing a few bags of things. I’d managed to toss a box of condoms in when Evie hadn’t been looking, because now that I knew the truth behind the Eric façade, I wasn’t going to back off. Not when I heard the absolute truth ringing in her voice when she said she didn’t think love was in the cards for her again. She honestly believed that, and I wanted to prove her wrong.
Evie was in the kitchen, boiling some noodles for spaghetti, the sauce from a jar already heating in a pan on the stove. It was easy and quick—and being cheap didn’t hurt, either. I sat on the couch while she stirred the pasta, pretending I wasn’t watching her, when in reality I couldn’t take my eyes off her, remembering all the times she’d done this for us in the past.
In the years we’d been together, she’d spent most nights at my and Gage’s place, all of us migrating there after whatever shit we’d gotten up to after school. Seeing her being so domestic after watching her on the streets, taking no shit from anyone, was something I’d craved. Mostly because I’d known I was the only person to ever see that side of her. It proved just how comfortable she was with me. Just how strong our connection was.
And seeing her like that now, especially after she’d landed me on my ass only hours ago through sheer will and force of her body, was sexy as hell.
“What’re you staring at?”
Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Unashamed, I shrugged. “Your ass.”
She snorted, turning around again and giving me another view of her spectacular backside. Now that I’d had her, had been inside her, it was taking everything in me not to go up behind her, reach around and cup her tits, kiss her breathless, take her to the bed and sink deep inside her body. But she’d pulled back since our talk, and as much as it was killing me, I wanted to respect that. I just didn’t know how long I’d last before I snapped.
“Well, stop staring and come eat,” she said, setting plates down on the counter and dishing up. I stood from the couch and headed into the kitchen area. I grabbed forks while she piled one of the plates with heaps of noodles and sauce, then put a more respectable amount on the other plate.
I grinned at her and grabbed the one she’d barely put anything on. “Feeling hungry tonight?” I asked, gesturing to the other plate still in front of her.
She rolled her eyes, but a smile flirted at the corner of her mouth, and I wanted to see her truly smile. The smile I hadn’t seen in so long—the one where her beauty mark would disappear in her dimple, and I’d get a surge in my chest because I’d been the one to make her happy. Getting Evie to smile—truly smile—had always been like sinking the eight ball on the break. A little bit of luck, a little bit of skill, complete satisfaction. I could still remember the first time she’d turned that dimple on me. I’d felt like I won the fucking lottery.
After I had both our plates, I walked over to the couch, waiting as she trailed behind me with two bottles of beer, the necks clutched between her fingers. Once she was settled, I set the plate she’d dished up for herself in her lap, then took the bottle of beer from her with a tip of my head and sat on the other end of the couch, facing her.
It was quiet as we began to eat, but even with the silence, I studied her.
Without looking up at me, she said, “You’re staring again, and since I’m sitting on my ass, that’s not what has your attention.”
I finished chewing the bite of spaghetti and then took a swig of beer. “I was just thinking about what it used to be like, when we were in high school. You remember when you’d cook like this for me and Gage?”
She stared at me for a moment, her eyes darting between mine, then she averted her gaze. “Of course.”
After long enough of her not saying anything else, I filled in the silence. “We were ungrateful assholes then, probably never saying thank you, but I always loved when you did it.”
She huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Why? It wasn’t like I was a gourmet cook. We ate boxed mac and cheese or ramen or sandwiches on stale bread.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t so much what you made, but that you were making it, period. It felt like I got this glimpse of Evie that no one else would ever see. Where you let down your guard.”
It was subtle, the way she tensed, but I could see it. And it made me wonder just how much of her I’d ever actually seen.
When we’d been so young, I hadn’t ever considered why she spent so much time at our place, just happy my girlfriend was able to be there as often as I wanted. Now, though, I couldn’t help but wonder what kept her there. “Why didn’t you ever want to go home back then?”
If the tension in her shoulders was subtle before, now it was like Mt. Everest rested on them. Still, she played it off, shrugging those stiff shoulders. “Rather hang out with you guys than my parents. I was a teenager. Isn’t that pretty standard?”
That wasn’t the truth—not the whole truth, anyway—but if there was one thing I knew about Evie, it was that people didn’t get her to do what she didn’t want to do, so I didn’t push. Instead, I finally voiced the question that’d been eating away at me. “How could you just disappear?”
She cringed, the pink in her cheeks deepening. “I’m sorry, Riley. I know Gage gave you his reasons for keeping it from you. As for me, I thought it would be better if we had a clean break.”
“Better for who?”
Her eyes darted between mine, trying to read something in them. What, I didn’t know. With a sigh, she said, “For both of us.”
Shaking my head, I took another bite of pasta and said around it, “Just more bullshit. When are you going to learn that I know you better than anyone? Five years might have gone by, but I can still read you like a book.”
EVIE
He could, too, and that was what I’d always been worried about, one of the many things that had kept me up at night. Because if he could read me, then surely he’d know, surely he’d find out the truth. And then how would he look at me? Would he see me differently? See me as tainted or dirty? See me as a liar or a tease? See me as someone other than Evie, his Evie?
I couldn’t handle that. Not from him.
With everything he’d been through in the years I’d been gone, everything I’d put him through, he deserved this portion of my truth. I could give him this much. Nodding, I said, “You’re right. That is bullshit.” I swallowed down the unease creeping up my throat and pushed through. “I thought it’d be easier for me. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t move on with a new life, if I knew you were still waiting for me. And I know you would’ve waited. I didn’t want that for either of us.”
He stared at me for a long moment, calculating, always scrutinizing, and then he tipped his head in my direction. “Fair enough,” he said before he took another deep pull from his beer.
And then he let the line of conversation drop, though just like he knew me, I knew him equally, and as such, I was absolutely certain this wasn’t the end of that. He might not bring it up today, or tomorrow, but he’d be thinking about it. And when the time was right, he’d ask me again. It was inevitable.
“You mentioned Eric doesn’t know anything about your past. How’d you manage that?”
I shrugged, relaxing back into the couch, thankful for the reprieve, for as long as it’d last. “It was easy. I studied the profile Aaron had created for me inside and out. I used it for so long, it became mine. It was me, despite how false it was. Instead of breaking and entering or getting in fights, I was going to gallery openings and sipping champagne because Genevieve was an art buff. Hell, I minored in Art History just to keep up the façade. I changed the way I dressed, the way I looked, the way I carried myself. Gone was the girl who scrounged for information for a living and knew how to fight; in her place was someone who got weekly manicures and tried the latest shade of lipstick. It was my new reality, and it was easier to feed that to him than to saddle him with the truth.”
Riley studied me, watching me with appraising eyes. “And what’s he going to say now? You don’t plan to keep this from him, do you?”
“I guess it depends on how it all plays out. If I’m dead at the end of it, there won’t be much point in worrying about what I’ll tell him.”
His shoulders went taut, his jaw clenched as tightly as his fists as he pinned me with hard eyes. “Jesus Christ, Evie. Don’t say shit like that.”
“Riley, I’ve been living like this long enough to know that tomorrow isn’t a guarantee. Anything can happen from one day to the next.”
“Anything can happen, except when you’re with me. No one is getting to you when I’m here. No one is getting through me. I’d have to be dead first.”
His eyes were hard, his voice strong and confident. He believed the words he said. If it came down to it, if there was a situation where my life was in danger and Riley was there to stop it, he would. At the cost of his life.
And that was exactly what I was terrified of.
RILEY
The thought of someone coming for her filled me with an all-consuming rage I hadn’t felt in years, not since I’d learned of Evie’s death. Not since I’d set out to keep as many corrupt businessman off the streets as I could … in whatever way I could. I knew it was an unconventional way of going about it—aligning myself with criminals to do some good, any bit of good I could—but it’d been all I’d known. And now that my truth had been shaken, now that I knew what actually had gone down on that boat … that it hadn’t been a corrupt businessman to take Evie’s life but the very man who I’d aligned myself with, who I worked for, it filled me with a regret so intense I nearly couldn’t see past it. How doing the one thing I’d been good at—the only thing I’d ever known—was like spitting on Evie’s grave.
The feelings swirling around inside were more than just the rage I felt at the idea of someone getting past me and getting to her. That very thought filled me with a terror I’d only ever known where she was concerned.
She’d always been able to bring out the purest, most undiluted reactions from me.
Evie let the conversation drop, standing up and putting her dish in the sink, tossing her empty beer bottle in the trash. Then she came and collected mine, all the while I sat, a hundred different scenarios flipping through my mind on everything that could possibly happen. Someone from the Minneapolis crew finding us, Aaron being tortured until he gave up our location, having Frankie slip in undetected and getting to Evie while I was sleeping. All of it, every instance, had my heart pounding heavily in my chest, my muscles tight with fear and anxiety. Not for me, but for her.
Always for her.
When she came back to the couch, I didn’t let her sit down, instead reaching out and grabbing her wrist, tugging her to stand in front of me. She stumbled, a squeak of protest leaving her lips. She steadied herself with a hand on my shoulder, her head tipped down toward me, her brow furrowed. I could spend hours right here, just looking at her.
But right now, I needed more than to just look. I needed to feel. Needed to remind myself that she was okay.
I let go of her arm and reached up, gripping her hips. She’d slipped back into her tight cotton pants and a fitted long-sleeve T-shirt after taking a shower earlier, and I wanted them gone. I wanted those pants that hugged her ass so spectacularly around her ankles while they rested on my shoulders. I wanted that shirt across the loft, out of the way so I could feel her smooth skin under my hands.
I pulled her closer to me, situating her between my spread knees, and leaned forward, resting my forehead against her stomach. All that stood between me and her skin was a shirt, a thin piece of cotton, and it didn’t take much at all to lift it with my thumbs, and then my lips were on her. Her skin was smooth like silk, and she smelled like heaven. I brushed my lips back and forth against her, just the barest of whispers, but she felt it. I knew she felt it, because her stomach fluttered under my touch, goose bumps covering her skin, and her hands tightened on my shoulders.
