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“Marcela—” He sucks in a breath as I kiss down his neck. My nails graze his nape, fingers curling in the soft hair there. “I don’t think this is a— Fuck.”
His exclamation comes when my warm hand meets the bare skin of his stomach, roaming up his side. “Do you want me to stop?” His stubble tickles my lips as I ask the question against his jawline. We lock eyes for a beat, and I wait for him to take the out. I wouldn’t even blame him for it. He’s right. We shouldn’t be doing this now, not when we have nothing figured out.
He doesn’t take the out. He kisses me instead, and this time there’s urgency in our movements. His tongue slides against mine, searching, coaxing. My arms wrap around his neck as his hands settle on my waist, pulling me off the bench in one swift motion. I drown in him all over again, never once craving a breath of fresh air.
Thirty-One
We go back to his place.
We waste no time stripping each other of winter layers. First our coats, then the second layer of outerwear, until finally, the last layers come off and we’re skin to skin. A ridiculous amount of clothing litters the living room floor as Theo walks me backward through the living room, kissing down my neck as his fingers find the top button of my jeans. He pushes me against the door, hands moving up my back as I step out of my pants and kick them to the side. My bra is the next article of clothing to go, and then he twists open the doorknob to his bedroom and leads me inside.
The back of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, and everything becomes real. We should talk first, maybe, before we do this. He has no idea I’m reconsidering everything, that I’ve fallen in love with him despite the odds, that even though I’m still not sure if we can make a real relationship work, I’m not ready to lose him for good, either. But where does that leave us, if not the limbo my fear has created for us?
“Wait.” He pauses from rifling through the top drawer of his nightstand. I reach for his shoulders, hands curling in his hair as my arms wrap around his head. “Come here.”
I kiss him slowly, using my body to convey what my words can’t. My fingers hook in the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him into me. I find the button and zipper of his jeans, then push them off him. My hands skirt the top of his boxers, and his body shivers in response. But when I touch him through the thin material…
“Fuck.” He buries his head in the crook of my neck. When I inch my hand inside his boxers, he lets out a guttural groan in the form of my name. He bites down on my shoulder, light enough not to break skin, but hard enough for me to let out a hiss. He replaces his teeth with his lips, kissing the spot to ease the slight sting.
His hand closes over mine, easing it away from his cock. When I look up at him, his eyes are hazy. His other hand settles on my lower back as he eases me backward onto the mattress. His knees settle on either side of me on the bed. We never got to christen this bed before I blew up our first date. This is my first time inside his bedroom. Maybe my last.
I shut my eyes, as if that’ll help shut off my thoughts.
“Are you okay?”
I don’t answer his question. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down. I close my mouth over his, kissing him hard and fast, until all thoughts outside this moment dissipate. His hands travel down my hair, down my back, and then come up around to my chest. My breasts fill his hands, and I let out a groan into his mouth. Yes.
His fingers circle my peaked nipples. When his mouth closes over the right one, my nails dig into the skin of his nape. He sucks in a breath, but I’m barely breathing. Not when his other hand keeps circling, or when it dips down inside my panties.
“Marcela.” His voice is breathless when he feels how wet I am, two fingers gently moving up to reach my clit. He rests his forehead against mine. Through the dim glow of his window, his face twists into a pained expression. “Don’t tell me this is the last time.”
He kisses me before I can respond, before I can even think of a proper response. A kiss that slices a gaping hole inside my chest, even as a shot of pleasure surges through my veins. His hand works fast, but his mouth moves faster. So fast I can barely keep up with him, so I let him lead the pace. I nearly whimper when he pulls away, until I realize it’s to search through his nightstand for a condom.
Before I can process what’s happening, he flips us over until I’m on top of him. He lifts us up until he’s pulled himself into a seated position with me in his lap, his head leaning back against the headboard. Our eyes meet and lock for the first time tonight. They’re obsidian under the pale moonlight, glittering black rocks cast in a neutral expression. There’s no smug smile tugging his lips, no hint of the devious smirks I’m used to. It’s disorienting.
He tears through the packaging and sheathes himself in one swift motion. This time, I don’t need help guiding myself on top of him. I almost reach for his shoulder, but steady myself with a hand on the headboard instead. Our faces are so close this way, chest to chest. Too close for comfort, when he wears that guarded expression I’ve never seen on him. When I know it’s because of me that he has to protect himself in the first place.
Slowly, I move my hips up and down. I grip the headboard tighter to hold myself up, and I shut my eyes to avoid looking into Theo’s face. His hands close over my hips and squeeze, helping to quicken my movements. I think I hear him say my name, but I’m too stuck inside my own head to be sure. His lips graze my shoulders, kissing up my neck, my jaw, until finally his mouth closes over mine.
“Theo,” I moan his name into his mouth. I let go of the headboard, reaching for him instead. My arms wrap around his body, hands curling inside his hair. I melt into him, until I can almost pretend nothing’s changed between us. That this isn’t our last night. What an absurd thought. Why would either one of us give this up when it feels this good?
He finishes soon before I do, his hand replacing his cock until a wave of pleasure washes over me. We collapse onto each other, breathing fast and shallow.
“Stay.” Is that a note of pleading in his voice, or is that my own twisted, wishful thinking? “It’s too late for either one of us to be on the road. Please.”
“Okay.” I can’t make out his features anymore. Total darkness swamps his bedroom now. Maybe that’s better. “I’ll stay.”
He pulls me into his body until I’m crushed to his hard chest, burying his head in the crook of my shoulder, one hand settled beneath my hair at the nape of my neck. My heart slams in my chest, emotion choking the back of my throat. There’s no way he can’t feel my heartbeat through my skin.
I don’t know what this was, but I don’t want it to be goodbye. The thought of losing him only makes me want all our nights to be like this, curled in his arms, listening to his breath even out as he falls asleep. Maybe that’s what finally gives me the courage to take the leap.
“I want to try.” I can hardly hear myself speak, my heart is beating so hard. His body stills beside me, waiting. “But this is hard for me. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
“You won’t.” Those two little words hold more conviction than I have in my whole body. “I won’t, either.”
“That’s not something you can promise,” I say. “I already fucked up. I’m part of the reason they broke up. I sent Ben a text meant for you, and it blew up their relationship.”
His body rolls away from mine, and for a moment I think he’s changed his mind again. I should’ve told him the truth sooner, before we slept together. Maybe he’s realizing a real relationship together is all too much to deal with, and we were foolish to try. I squint my eyes against the light as he flicks on a lamp. Theo sits up, back against the headboard.
