Page 94 of Head Under Water

His voice drops, eyes lingering on my chest. “I have spent a significant amount of time thinking about them.” The air leaves my lungs and doesn’t return. His hand slides down my body, thumb brushing against a bit of exposed skin on my lower stomach like he’s asking the question again, without words this time. But then his mouth opens, and the words come. “Which is why I need to know you want this too.”

He presses a kiss to my neck again before his lips skirt up to my ear. My body is on fire, my chest still too tight to draw a full breath.

“Opal.” He lifts his head, catching my eyes and holding my gaze. “Say yes.”

Say yes. The memory of that night, the want in his voice then and now. It’s too much.

And yet…

I jerk my chin forward with a nod.

“Suddenly so quiet.” From behind heavy lids, his eyes flash with something dark, falling to my mouth. His brows rise. He runs his thumb over my bottom lip ever so slowly, dragging it down. “These pretty little lips.” Each word is a full sentence. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about all the ways I could shut them up.”

I swallow. My head is a thick cloud of smoke.

“But right now, I need to hear them say the word. Do you want this? Me? Can I have you?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He doesn’t wait.

He crushes his lips to mine, his hands sliding up both of my arms. He draws them up the wall until we’re both reaching overhead, until he has me pinned in place.

It’s not desperate like the night in the barn or earlier in the car. This kiss is different. His mouth explores mine slowly, intentionally. As if we have all the time in the world and he plans to savor it.

Slowly, he moves my hands together, pinning them under one of his palms. His other hand snakes along my body, down my side.

My heart gallops in my chest. He spreads his fingers across my ribs, and I pull one hand free, tangling it in the hair at the nape of his neck.

I go to grab his shirt, to take control, but he anticipates it and catches my palm. His smile spreads against my mouth. A challenge, even here. Even now.

I give as much as he does, slipping my hand back into his hair, tugging just enough for him to breathe my name. “Opal.” Half warning, half plea.

“You said you were going to take what you want,” I remind him, nipping at his lips. “So take it.”

There is no kiss though, not right away. He rests his forehead against mine for a second, breathing heavily, and I feel it—the care, the fear, the complete and total awe.

Reverence.

For us.

For this moment.

For whatever happens next.

All of this from the boy who once shoved me into the lake on summer vacation.

The rest of that memory comes to me in a flash. How I held myself underwater until he panicked. Until he jumped in to save me.

“You matter to me,” he says quietly, his eyes searching mine. Waiting. “This isn’t just sex. It’s not…nothing.”

“I know.” And I do. Deep down, every layer of me feels it. Every heartbeat, every nerve. I understand, fully, what this means to both of us.

I take his hand and start walking backward down the hallway, never breaking eye contact. “Your place or mine?” I tease, letting the corner of my mouth lift.

“I need you in my bed.” His answer comes out heavy. Rough. Intense.

I lift my brows, smirking. “Done. Try to keep up, okay?”