AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Would you consider that an insult or a fact?” I asked rudely, plopping back down in my seat.
His eyelashes dipped, a softness washing over his expression. He lifted a calm hand at me. “I’m going to ignore the attitude because I know I pushed you.”
“How kind.”
I looked back down at my lap and picked at my fingernails. I couldn’t stomach the way he stared at me. It always broke his heart when I got into one of these moods. I knew that. It made him feel the same way I did when he started to shut down and ice me out. Thankfully, it wasn’t frequent on either of our parts. I was hot rage, and he was freezing solitude and while we were each other’s comfort, we occasionally became punching bags.
We agreed long ago that it was okay as long as the perpetrator never went too long without calming down and apologizing. That was always easier for me. I never stayed mad for long. It all shot out of me in a matter of ten, maybe twenty minutes, and then it dissipated. Jonah kept it inside, ruminating, refusing to let even a drop melt away.
Still, I always waited with open arms, as he did for me, no matter how long it took.
“Can I come touch you?” he asked softly.
“Yes, you can fucking touch me.” I kept my line of vision firmly on his desk, clinging to bits of my anger. “You want to know what I’m comfortable with? I’m comfortable with you. You’re the only person who can touch me. Now, get over here before I fucking murder you.”
He fell back into his seat and wrapped his arms around my body, pulling me into him. I willingly continued the motion and curled up on his lap, looping my legs around his hips and clamping him like the claw in the arcade that always let go of the teddy bear at the last second. I, in turn, was not going to let him go if I could help it. I wiped my nose across his shoulder and hugged him tightly with all four limbs, letting him know I was done being a pissy bitch.
He nuzzled his face into my shoulder. “And now? How do you move on from here? What do you want?”
I backed out of our hug and looked at him. Was this the moment I took that step? Were my recent fantasies about to come true? “I…want someone to show me it can feel good. Like I believe it can. I don’t want to tune any of it out. I want to feel it.”
His brows tweaked. Despite everything, I still don’t think he was expecting me to say that. It was almost like he was waiting for me to say this was all a show, that I was just acting out emotionally, and that I didn’t really want him. I watched through his eyes as he ran through possible answers until he finally landed on the most useless one imaginable. “Is that so?”
I nodded, deciding to go for it, and positioned eight of my nails just under his ears. His body stiffened under my touch. I let my fingers drag down his skin slowly, jumping only when they met his shirt. They moved over the fabric until my palms filled with his shoulders and his tattoos were lined with goosebumps.
The air became painfully heavy, strung with a tension that blurred my senses entirely.
“You want someone to show you it can feel good,” he whispered.
Was I not being clear? “I want you to.”
A tapping commenced on the back of my hip. It was his finger counting the seconds as he decided what to do.
Finally, he moved. One of his hands slid slowly from my hip to my waist, up, up, until he reached that perfidious spot on my ribs. Oh god. How could I let my best friend touch me this way? How could I be so pitiful as to incite it myself? Didn’t matter. Didn’t care. His caress sent a shock through my abdomen as bubbles began to burn inside of me. My fingers draped over his shoulders as he spent a few long seconds drawing lazy circles over my side, skimming over my senses with those incredible hands, inspecting my every reaction.
“Does this feel good?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He removed his hand from my side and placed a soft finger under my jaw. His eyes followed it as it trailed slowly down my neck, over the strap of my tank top, along my collarbone. I jumped. Another flick of warmth through my body added to the bubbles building, and my breathing became heavier.
“Collarbone,” he murmured.
His finger continued back over my shoulder, down my arm, over my bicep, and into the divot of my elbow until it reached my forearm. Another jump sent even more heat to my stomach.
“Forearm,” he said, adding to a list he was seemingly keeping in his mind.
I wanted a list too. I wanted to play the game, to see how I could make him burn and shudder.
“Can I try?” I asked. His eyes snapped up to mine, but he didn’t answer. “Do you know all of your…favorite spots?”
“I’m sure I have much more to learn.”
“Can I try?” I repeated.
???
Jonah
