Текст книги "The Redemption of Callie and Kayden"

Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

shadowed anymore. He is my light and I hope one day that I can

be his.

I move my lips toward him. “I want to be with you.”

He doesn’t say anything else. His lips collide with mine. He

starts walking again as his hands stray to my waist, fingers dipped

inward and leaving paths of sweltering heat on my skin. He lowers

us onto the bed, sits up a little, and shoves Seth’s bag off the edge.

Then he maneuvers his body over mine and our lips reconnect

with a shock of static. When his tongue enters my mouth, I knot

my fingers in his hair and steer his face closer, wanting all of him.

“Callie,” he groans as his hands round to my stomach. His

fingers graze along my skin and send a coil of heat down between

my legs.

My back bows up into him as I relish the feel of his tongue

on mine. If I could wish for one thing, it would be that I could

always feel this way, completely and blissfully consumed by

someone else. No, not just by someone else. By Kayden. My legs

move around his hips, so I’m opened up to him, and his weight

bears down on me. He’s holding himself up with his arm propped

to the side of my head and his other hand moves up the front of

my dress until it reaches the edge of my bra. For a split second I

feel uneasiness choke inside me, but I remind myself that this is

Kayden and he would never hurt me—he’ll only ever protect me,

no matter what it costs him.

His fingers sneak under and cup my breast and my nipple

promptly hardens. My knees constrict around his waist as the pad

of his thumb grazes across my nipple. My head falls back as I let

out a moan and Kayden begins grinding his hips against me. He

does it over and over again, our bodies connecting and colliding.

There’s undying passion in each movement and I forget where I

am. I exist only in this moment and every other moment in my life

is dead. My nails dig into his shoulder blades as I feel myself rising toward the stars outside the window and seconds later I fall back

to earth. Panting loudly, I stretch my fingers out as he stills.

Then he’s sitting up and grabbing my arm. Moving off the

bed, he pulls me up so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed and he’s

standing in front of me. He reaches for the bottom of my dress,

and with one swift movement, he pulls it over my head. My heart

jumps inside my chest as my hair falls to my shoulders. He leans

over me and his hand slides up my back to the clasp of my bra. My

chest rises and falls as he flicks the clasp open and my bra falls off my shoulders. I’m choking up again, but whisper at my heart to

calm down as I reach for his shirt. His breathing becomes unsteady

as I slip my hand up his chest and bring my body up, so I’m

standing in front of him and his shirt is pulled up. One of my hands

rests above his heart, beating unsteadily against my palm.

I swallow hard as I take in the scar on his side, still healing,

and I trace a path around it. Tears sting my eyes as I think about

how it got there, what he went through, what he must be going

through.

“Callie…” Kayden says and he hooks a finger under my chin

so I’ll look up at him. He lowers his hand and his fingers circle my

wrist. Bringing my hand up to his lips, he kisses the inside of my

wrist and I shudder from the delicate touch of his breath. “I’m

okay.”

No, you’re not. I want to say. Your father stabbed you and

you took the full weight of it. You can’t be okay.

He lets go of my hand and reaches behind his neck. With a

soft tug, he slips his shirt off the rest of the way and drops it onto the floor beside my dress and bra. His hair is sticking up and his

lips are red from kissing me so roughly. My gaze moves from his

face to the scars. Most of them are small, but some aren’t. The

largest one tracks up his chest and looks coarse.

“I fell on a rake when my father hit me,” he explains in a

solemn voice, like it means nothing. Like it’s something that just

happens and he’s moved on and forgotten it.

I want to cry for him. I trace my finger up the scar, feeling the

bumps and imagining how painful it must have been. “Kayden, I—”

He silences me with his lips as he falls down on me and lays

us back onto the bed. After his tongue searches every inch of my

mouth, he pulls away again. “I know you want me to talk about it

with you—and I will—but right now this is what I want.” He

sketches his finger down my cheekbone and my eyelids flutter

shut. “You’re all I want for a minute.”

His touch is driving my body crazy in ways I didn’t even know

were possible. I nod my head, wanting him to have me for a

minute. There’s a faint smile at his lips as he kisses my cheek and

then he lifts his hips off me. He slips his jeans off and then his

boxers before sliding my panties down my legs and pulling them

off too. He grabs a condom from his wallet before tossing his jeans

aside, and then he stills over me with his arms resting at the side of my head as he looks me in the eyes.

“You know, if you ever need anything from me—whether it’s

to stop or slow down or simply talk, I’m here,” he says, trying to

calm my nerves, which are a mess, even though I’ve done this with

him before.

“I know.” I inhale and exhale and I almost tell him I love him

right there and then, because holding it in is nearly excruciating.

I don’t though and then he’s kissing me and sliding inside

me. It doesn’t hurt as bad as the first time we had sex and my legs

more willingly open up to him as he rocks inside me. I fasten my

hands around his back and hold onto him as my body drifts to that

place again, the one where I’m free, the one where he and I only

belong together.

I begin to sweat and the muscles of his arms and chest flex

as he speeds up his movements. All thoughts leave my head. I wish

I could grasp onto this moment, hold it in my hand and keep it

with me forever, because then my life would be complete,

breathless, real.

It would be perfect.

Kayden

I don’t have control when it comes to her. I’m quickly

learning this. Whenever she looks at me, I swear she steals another

piece of my soul. Unlike most people, she doesn’t care if it’s

damaged. And once we kiss, I’m gone. The broken, soulless, empty

Kayden who’s existed since the first time his father beat him no

longer lives. She owns me and I want nothing more than to be with

her.

I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom, because what I

want to do to her can’t be done on the beach without things

getting messy. I kiss her for as long as I can, rubbing up against

her and then watch in fascination as she breaks apart. I need more,

so I stand up and bring her up with me, undressing her. Then she

reaches to undress me and I can tell she’s looking at the scars and

thinking about what put them there. When I take my shirt off, her

gaze goes to the largest one right up the center of my chest.

“I fell on a rake when my father hit me,” I tell her and I don’t

even know why. I hate talking about it, but suddenly I want her to

know because it’ll make me feel better and the weight on my

shoulders will be a little less heavy.

She looks like she’s about to say something that might ruin

the moment, so I crash my lips against hers and steal both our

breaths and voices. I fall onto her, holding my weight, noting how

small and helpless she is underneath me.

I finish taking off the rest of our clothes and then she’s lying

underneath me, looking about as terrified as I feel, her eyes

massive and I sense a small tremble of her body every time she

breathes.

“You know, if you ever need anything from me—whether it’s

to stop or slow down or simply talk, I’m here,” I say, trying to calm her nerves. And it’s true. I’d stop if she asked me to. I’d do

anything for her.

She doesn’t say anything and I slide inside her, feeling her

warmth and wishing I could just stay there and just feel her. It’s

calming, terrifying, perfect—it’s so many God damn things I don’t

let myself feel except when I’m with her, and when I’m with her,

feeling things isn’t as hard.

I rest my arms by the side of her head and rock inside her.

Her legs fall open and her hands tighten around me as I press

deeper into her, knowing that nothing else will ever compare to

this. I thrust inside her, watching in awe as her eyes glaze over and her head tips back. Her body starts to arch against mine and we

collide into each other as I drive her further. She bites down on her bottom lip and her neck bows forward as her fingernails pierce my

skin. I hate how fucking much I like it, but I can’t help it. Even with her beneath me, it’s still there, hiding inside me, the desire for pain instead of feelings.

“Kayden,” she moans and loses herself in my movements.

She holds onto me, our skin damp, our breathing fitful as I

still myself inside her. My head is tipped down and her breath is

hitting my cheek as her fingers draw up and down my back. When

I get control of myself again, I kiss her cheek and then start to pull back, but she tightens her legs around my waist and holds me in

place, refusing to let me slip out of her.

I lean back and look her in the eyes, searching for what’s

wrong. “Are you okay?”

She nods, with a funny look on her face. “I’m just not ready

to let you go yet.”

A smile reveals at my lips. And it’s genuine and not for show

like most of my smiles are. I kiss her deeply with every ounce of

passion I have in me. “Give me a few minutes,” I say and turn my

hips to the side. “And I’ll be back in the game.”

This time she releases me and I lie on my back, with my arm

behind my head as I stare up at the ceiling. I’m very aware of my

scars at the moment and how each one feels smaller somehow. I’m

starting to realize something… something I’m not sure I want to

realize. She makes me feel better and I wonder if that means I’m

supposed to be with her. I don’t want it to mean that, though. I

want her to be unrestricted.

Pulling the sheet over her, she rotates onto her hip and

brushes my hair out of my face. “What are you thinking about?”

she asks, grazing a finger between my brows and erasing the worry

line.

I tip my head to the side and meet her gaze. “You really want

to know?”

She nods her head, lowering her hand to her hip, and my

eyes trace her thin figure. “I always do.”

I pivot to the side so we’re lying face to face. “I’m thinking

that you should leave me.”

Her breathing becomes ragged. “You want me to go?”

I quickly place a hand on her hip. “Don’t think for a second

that I want you to go. I never want you to go. I want you here.

With me… but I don’t want you to be with me. I want you to be

happy, if that makes any sense.”

She considers what I said, biting on her bottom lip, and all I

want to do is lean forward and bite it too, but it would defeat my

whole purpose of trying to let her go. “I get what you’re saying,”

she says. “But I don’t agree with it. You’re the only person…” Her

bottom lip shakes as she takes a deep breath. “You’re the only

person who I can ever feel whole with.”

“You don’t know that.” I keep trying to push her away. “There

could easily be other people out there.”

She shakes her head. “There’s not… a-and I don’t want there

to be.”

“Callie,” I say softly and place my hand under her cheek,

rubbing a finger across her birthmark on her temple. “I’m not good

for you. You deserve better.” It gashes deep inside my chest to say

the truth aloud. But it needs to be said.

“There’s nothing better,” she utters quietly, staring at the

foot of the bed, blinking back the tears. “You just need to realize

that.”

“I just want you to be free… from all my shit and my fucking

complicated life.”

“I don’t want to be free. I just want to be here. With you. I-I

don’t care about your fucking complicated life or your problems. I

just want you… and I want you to be happy. You deserve to be.”

Fuck. No one’s ever said that to me. I don’t even know if I’m

certain what happiness is. I can’t control myself anymore. Each one

of my scars is throbbing and I need her to silence them. I lean in

and grab the back of her head, bringing her lips to mine, and kiss

her with so much intensity it rips my scars in half. I flip us over,

pressing her down on her back as I run my hand down to her

breast. She trembles as she moves her legs up so I fall down

between her. I kiss her fervently, nipping at her lip as I touch her

everywhere. When I finally pull away, I can barely breathe as I trail kisses down her jawline, her neck, her collarbone. I graze my teeth

along her neck and suck on her soft skin as her legs latch around

my waist. My head journeys down farther and her hips writhe up as

I trace a circle around her nipple before sucking it into my mouth.

She lets out a sexy whimper as her fingers tangle through my hair.

I suck hard, needing more of her, before I travel to her other

breast. I caress my tongue along that one too, until I can’t stand it anymore.

I push back and grab another condom. Seconds later, I’m

back inside her, wishing things would stay this way forever. Just

she and I without the sounds and heaviness of the world. Without

the fucking complications of life.

Chapter 14

#10 Face the truth and let it go

Callie

We make love countless times throughout the night and

then finally I slip Kayden’s shirt on and he puts his boxers back on.

Then we lie down in the bed and rest. Somewhere well into the

early hours of morning Luke and Seth stumble into the house,

drunk off their asses and making a lot of noise. Seconds later, Seth

starts jiggling the doorknob and shaking the door.

“Oh Callie Lawrence, let me in,” he says, banging on the

door.

Then I hear Luke say, “Not by the hair on my chinny chin

chin.”

This is followed by a lot of laughter and then the sound of a

glass breaking.

I glance up at Kayden, who has his arm around me and is

playing with my hair. He smiles down at me as I rest my face on his

chest.

“They’re wasted,” he says. “And I’m guessing that Luke

probably dropped a bottle on the floor in classic Luke style.”

“Does he do that a lot?”

“In the past, yeah. It’s like he forgets how to use his hands or

something.”

I laugh against his chest and he kisses the top of my head.

“Should I let him in?” I ask.

“Nah,” Kayden replies. “Let them stay out there and annoy

the shit out of each other.”

I laugh as Seth continues to bang on the door. He does it for

quite a while before he gives up and the house gets quiet. Even

though the last few hours have been amazing, I still have a ton of

questions on the tip of my tongue, but I’m worried about the

consequences if I ask them.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about?” He repeats my early

words as he twists a lock of my hair around his finger.

I peer up at him, noting the small scars on his face, and I

can’t believe how many people don’t notice. “I’m thinking that you

should tell someone about your father.”

He freezes and the strand of my hair falls from his finger.

“Callie, I can’t do that. No one will believe me.”

With my hands flat on his chest, I push up and swing my leg

over him. “Yes, they will. We just have to find the right person.”

He shakes his head as he swallows hard and stares at the

moon through the window. “I can’t.”

I put my hands on his shoulders and pin him down. “Yes, you

can… and do you know why…” I trail off because what I’m about to

say is probably the second hardest thing I’ll ever have to say. The

first being what I actually have to say to someone else. “Because

I’m going to tell someone too.”

His eyes snap to mine and he assesses my face with great

concern. “You’re going to tell someone about Caleb?”

My heart is trying to kill me from the inside as it slams

against my chest. “I am, if you will.”

It’s that simple, at least the theory in my head is. I’ll promise

to tell my family as long as he tells someone about his

father—someone who will do something about it. Although, when

it actually comes down to spilling those words out to the world, it’ll be complex, complicated, rough, hurtful, aching, painful,

shameful… I could write a list down in my notebook of everything

that it will be and there wouldn’t be enough pages.

“Callie, I think that’s good,” he encourages. “You should tell

your parents.”

“But I’m only going to if you tell someone about your dad.” I

know it’s blackmail, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment. “And you

need to tell—we need to tell.”

His eyebrows knit together. “You’d really blackmail me into

it?”

My shoulders slump inward as I slouch down, feeling like the

world’s most terrible person. “I’m only doing it because I lo—care

for you.” My eyes widen at the word that almost slipped out.

I know he notices, but he pretends he doesn’t. He stays calm

underneath me. “And what do you think will come from us telling

someone?”

Tears are forming in my eyes and one rolls down my cheek,

dripping off my jawline and falling on him. “Freedom.” I try to force the rest of the tears back, but the wall around me is crumbling

rapidly and soon I lose all control over my emotions. I start to sob, again. He’s probably going to start thinking that that’s all I do.

He pulls me down against him and I bury my face in his chest

with my hands on his shoulders. Tears veil my vision as I stare at

the wall to the side of me.

“Fine, I’ll do it… I’ll tell someone… I guess,” he says so quietly

the sounds of my tears falling almost drown it out. “But only for

you. I’m only doing it for you.”

I’m not sure I like his answer. I don’t want him to do it for

me. I want him do it for himself because I want him to know that

he’s that great of a person. One who gets the

weirdo-Goth-Satan-worshipping girl who everyone was always

afraid of. One who can break down indestructible walls. The kind

of person who can piece a person back together again.

The person I’m falling in love with.

Kayden

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She wants us to tell

someone. Confess together. Tell our dark secrets to the world and

let everyone do what they will with them. It throws me off more

than anything I’ve ever heard until she almost says she loves me.

She stops herself quickly, like she’s afraid to say it, but it’s enough that I can tell she means it. And it’ll mean something to me. I know

that. It’s not like back when Daisy and I use to say it to each other.

It was just a word between her and me that meant nothing other

than it was part of the script. If Callie says it, then I know it means she loves me and I don’t know how to handle that. Love… Love…

Love. What the fuck does the word mean?

I don’t have a God damn clue and I don’t like how enthused

my heart got when the words just about left her lips, like it’d been

waiting around silently for that one word to fall from her lips and

jumpstart it to life again. It doesn’t matter how I feel, though. She’s told me she’ll tell if I tell and no matter how much I don’t want to

fucking tell, it’s done once she says it. Because I’d put my pain and shame out there to take hers away. I’d stab myself in the heart if it meant her life would be easier.

We lay in bed for a while, listening to the ocean crash against

the shore. There are birds cawing just outside the window and

someone is snoring out in the living room. I hold onto her while

she falls asleep, wishing this is how things would always be. That I

could just lie here with her and be at peace with myself and life.

But every nerve in my body is disturbed and adrenaline is

coursing through me more powerfully than the waves outside. I’m

itching for a razor or something sharp because I took the damn

rubber bands off my wrists. I try to pinch myself a thousand times,

and then I finally stab my fingernails into my skin. The pain and

feelings that come with it keep building like the waves outside. I

keep thinking about how I used Luke’s razor to finally shave off my

stubble and even though I wanted to, I resisted the urge to cut my

skin because I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Callie in the

alley.

This time though, I can’t shut it off. It’s consuming me, the

need, the compulsion, the overtaking desire to get it all out of my

head and body. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I peek down at

Callie, making sure that she’s still asleep, and then I vigilantly lift my arm off her and place it beneath her head. Inching my body to

the side, I scoot out from underneath her and then gently lower

her head onto the pillow.

She incoherently mutters something as she twists to her side

and tucks her hands below her cheek. I stand there for a moment,

making sure she’ll fall back asleep and then I walk quietly across

the room to the bathroom in the corner. I flip on the light and shut

the door. Callie’s bag is sitting on the counter, and although I hate the idea of digging through it, I need a razor. The only other

alternative is to slam my fist into something and that will make

noise and I might break something.

I rummage through her bag until I come across a small

pouch at the bottom. I take it out and let out a sigh of relief as I

spot a razor in the midst of her makeup and travel-size bags of

shampoo. I take it out and run my finger along the top blade,

testing the sharpness. It looks a lot like the first one I used: pink, with a strip of something at the top. But it’s sharper, and knowing

that calms me.

I decide where the best place to make the cut is, the place

where she won’t notice. Finally, I slide the bandage down and put

the razor to my wrist, not by a vein but to the side where there are

already a collection of scars. My head is tipped down and I’m

about ready to make the first incision when I hear the door open.

I freeze. No one has ever walked in on me while I was doing

it. And what’s worse is that it’s Callie. I don’t even have to look up to know it’s her. I can smell her shampoo and I can hear the sound

of her uneven breathing.

“Kayden.” Her voice is alarmingly calm, not at all what I

expected.

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. I don’t want to look up because then it’s real

and she’ll be able to see how weak I really am. Plus, she’ll make me

stop. And I’ve never had to stop when I’m almost there. I don’t

know how my body or mind’s going to react.

Her feet shuffle across the floor as she inches toward me. I

still have my head tipped down, my teeth biting hard on my

tongue. Her bare feet appear in my line of vision and her legs are

naked three-quarters of the way up and then my shirt covers her

small-framed body.

“Kayden,” she repeats, sounding so fucking calm it’s

unsettling.

I still have the edge of the razor aligned with my skin and

every muscle and vein below the skin has warped and convoluted

into knots. “Callie, just walk out and shut the door. I’ll be out in a minute.”

There’s a long pause and I think that maybe she’s actually

considering it.

“No,” she says firmly. “I won’t.”

My hand trembles and my heart thuds brutally inside my

chest. I don’t want to snap at her, but I’m panicking and my

feelings are controlling me. “Callie, I swear to God if you care

about me at all, you’ll turn around and walk back out into the

room.”

She takes another small step, reducing the already limited

space between us. “I do care about you and that’s why I’m not

going to leave.”

My head snaps up and rage bursts inside me, flames ripping

through my body. I’m about to ruin everything but I can’t stop it.

“Just get the hell out!”

“No.” Determination burns in her eyes. She doesn’t even look

like the Callie I know. She looks strong and confident. “I won’t let

you do it.”

I lean in toward her with the razor still pressed against my

skin and I notice her gaze flick to it. “If you know what’s good for

you, you’ll leave. You don’t get this… I don’t need you. Now leave.”

Her hand snaps out and she grabs ahold of my wrist, her tiny

fingers encircling it firmly. “I do get it. You want to stop whatever the hell it is you’re feeling and this is the only way you know how.

And because I get that, I’m not going to leave. If you walked in on

me when I was… when I was trying to… when I was trying to make

myself throw up, I’d want you to stop me even though I know I’d

try and argue and justify it with you.” Her fingers pry into mine as

she tries to steal the razor from my hand. “I get you!”

For a brief second her words stop the uncontrollable urge to

stab the razor deep into my skin, but then I panic again. I jerk my

arm back from her grip, ready to scream at her and probably say

words that will scar her for life. But as I move my arm, she winces

and she hastily withdraws her hand back to her. Her finger

skimmed the razor and her blood is dripping onto the floor by her

feet.

I no longer give a shit about the razor or getting rid of my

emotions. I chuck the blade into the sink. “Callie, I’m so fucking

sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” I’ve fucked things up again.

She’s clutching onto her finger and blood is spilling out and

her face is contorted in pain. She looks at me through her bangs

and I prepare myself for whatever she’s going to say: rejection,

hatred, anger. But then she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she

moves toward me and the next thing I know, she climbs onto me,

hitching her legs around my waist and fastening herself to me.

Then she wraps her arms around the back of my neck and presses

her forehead to the side of my neck, right where my pulse is

throbbing. I tense, but then a tranquil feeling rushes through my

body. My heart starts to still as she hugs me resolutely, trusting me wholly. I’ve never experienced anything like it, especially in the

middle of one of my meltdowns and I don’t know what to do with

myself except stand there with my hands lifelessly at my sides.

“Callie,” I say, but she steals my voice as she clutches onto

me and places kisses on my neck.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispers between each touch of her lips. “I

promise.”

I don’t fully understand what it is she’s promising, or maybe I

do and I’m just not ready to admit it yet. Either way, I find that I’m calm enough to leave the bathroom. I walk back to the bed and lie

us down. She refuses to let go of me even when I get us onto the

mattress. She crosses her ankles behind my waist, latching onto

me and making it impossible for me to escape.

But that’s okay. For the first time in my life I’m content

enough that I don’t want to.

Callie

I had one of those moments where I knew that every single

thing I did mattered, from the way that I breathed, to the tone of

my voice. Honestly, I am terrified out of my mind. I’d felt him wake

up, but I didn’t think too much off it, until suddenly I did. It

snapped me out of my sleep and I went in there, knowing I was

about to walk in on something that could potentially break me,

just like I did when I was twelve. This time things would end

differently though because I’d be strong and I’d save him, just like

he’s saved me.

He’s pissed about it, which is understandable, but it doesn’t

mean I give up and eventually it ends okay. Well, other than the

fact that I cut my finger open, something I’m painfully reminded of

when I open my eyes.

The sun is sparkling through the window and paints the sky

in contrasting shades of pink and orange. My finger is throbbing

and I realize I never cleaned it up. There’s blood on my hand, on

my arm, on the bed, and on Kayden’s chest where I am resting my

hand.

I sit up, cradling it in my other hand, and blink my eyes until

the room comes into focus. I’m still wearing Kayden’s shirt and it

smells like his cologne. Swinging my feet off the bed, I leave him to sleep as I head into the bathroom.

My hair is a tangled mess and there are dark circles under

my eyes. I feel exhausted as I turn the faucet on and wince when

the warm water runs over the wound, washing away the blood and

part of last night. I rest my elbows on the countertop and let my

head fall forward as I keep my hand beneath the water.

“Are you okay?” Kayden asks and I whip my head up,

startled.

He’s standing in the doorway, with his boxers on, and in the

bright morning light all of his scars are very distinctive against the outlines of his chest and ab muscles.

“I’m fine.” I shut off the water and reach for a towel, then

press my finger into it. “I just forgot to wash it off last night. That’s all.”

He steps into the bathroom and I tense as he extends his

hand for the towel. He lifts it off and brings my finger closer to his face, examining it. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says.

I shake my head. “You didn’t hurt me. It was my own fault…

and it was worth it.”

When he glances up at me, he looks horrified, but then the

look disappears and he lifts my hand to his lips. He places a tender

kiss on my finger and then moves his mouth downward to kiss my

hand. He continues to make a path of kisses across my forearm

and all the way to the crook of my arm, and then turns upward,

showering my skin in succulent kisses until he reaches the top of

my shoulder. He gives it an affectionate suck and his tongue rolls

out along my skin. The sensation of his zealous breath drives a

shiver through my body and I place a hand on his shoulder to keep

from falling down.

“You are the most amazing person,” he whispers against my

neck. “You really are.”

I almost start to cry. “So are you.”

His lips part again and he sucks on my neck, his tongue

savoring the taste of skin and the edge of his teeth gently grazing

it. My head distractedly falls to the side because it feels so good

and my fingers dip downward, gripping onto him and trying to

keep my legs from giving out. His mouth starts to progress upward

to the arch of my neck, to the spot where my pulse throbs, then to

the line of my jaw, the corner of my mouth. His moist lips dampen

my skin and knock the breath out of my chest in ravenous gasps of

air.

It’s like we’re locked in a box, protected from the world and

our fears. We can’t keep our hands off each other. There are so

many problems around us but all I can’t think about is him. When

our lips join, he turns us to the side and backs us toward the bed.

Maybe it’s crazy, with everything going on, to be so absorbed in

each other, instead of working on our problems. Maybe one day

we’ll look back and wonder what we were thinking. Or maybe we’ll

just remember the day we decided to escape the pain in the arms

of each other.

We collapse onto the bed, our legs twined together like a