Page 59 of Haunt Me, Maybe

I squeezed my eyes shut and burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck. My muscles were locked tight, to the point of pain. Wes maneuvered me until he could see my face. I felt his breath against my cheek. The weight of his stare triggered prickles across my skin.

“Aven. Look at me.”

His command was hard to ignore, and my eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto his. I focused on the amber around his irises and on the feel of his arms around me. His thumb traced slow lines along my spine until the panic loosened its grip and my body shivered for a completely different reason.

“He was there,” I whispered, finally. “Not him, obviously, but the shape of him. Like he was reaching again.”

It probably didn’t make any sense, but explaining the dream helped to remind me it wasn’t real. Wes’s hand slid from my back to my waist, thumb pressing gently into my side. I was acutely aware of how close we were—of the frigid heat of him; a solid presence I’d come to rely on far too quickly. The awareness sent a flush through me, and heat bloomed low in my stomach.

My fear melted away under the onslaught, and that bad dream of rotten apples and monsters faded into shadows.

“You okay?” he asked, head tilted as he studied the blush creeping along my skin.

I nodded, breathless all over again. I was sitting in Wes’s lap. Legs spread indecently wide, I hovered right over a very solid, very awake part of him. Goddess, was attraction supposed to knock you upside the head like this? It could swap panic for arousal when a hint of a penis was involved? Who knew?

His shoulders were firm beneath my hands, the muscles bunching as he adjusted us on the bed. Just a little.

“Trouble,” Wes crooned, stretching the word out in a way that sent another wave of goosebumps skittering down my arms. “You’re staring.”

Was I? Maybe it had something to do with the absolutely feral thoughts flooding my mind. Like, what would he do if I kissed him? If I followed through on what we started in the bathroom the other night, that felt so long ago.

“I was thinking,” I said, quietly, my breath still unsteady. I hesitated only a second before asking. “Can…can I touch you?

The question felt enormous. His hands stilled at my waist and locked there, like he couldn’t trust himself not to do to me what I was asking to try on him.

“Yesss,” he hissed, and then cleared his throat. “Please.”

Gathering all the bravery I could find, I leaned in and kissed him. It was tentative at first; I’d never instigated a kiss before, but he responded with lips just as soft, and I gained more confidence. The world narrowed to sensation; to the way his hand tightened at my waist and the way I felt held without being trapped.

My fingers trembled as I lifted them from his shoulder to trail them along his chest and over his shirt. Testing. When the world didn’t implode, and I didn’t suddenly find some way to embarrass myself, I pressed my palm flat and took note of every change. The subtle way he reacted to that innocent touch. The way his breath sharpened, and his body went still as he focused on letting me lead.

My magic fluttered. I broke our kiss and traced my lips along the line of his throat, smiling when he swallowed under my touch. The smallest sound left him, something between a breath and a moan, and it emboldened me to go farther. I shifted on his lap, creating more space for my hand to work its way lower. We weren’t going to stop this time, not until I saw it.

The ridges of his abdomen rose and fell under my palm, hard muscles twitching beneath my gentle touch. His belt gave me a bit of trouble, and it proved too much for me to try to undo while also kissing his neck. Pulling back with a frustrated growl, I yanked at the insulting leather keeping me from my goal. He must have thought me lame if I couldn’t even get the stupid belt undone.

“It’s okay.” He gently moved my hands aside and made quick work of the buckle. “You’re doing everything right.”

The praise made heat bloom under my skin, and my hands shook a little less. With the belt undone, I focused on the zipper; surely I could conquer that. As the metal links separated, Wes lifted his hips and pushed his pants down.

His boxers remained, but slipped lower themselves, hardly keeping him contained. The outline of him was already bigger than I expected, but it was made even more obvious when I pressed my palm against it.

I quickly glanced up to see his reaction, and his jaw was clenched so tight I thought he’d break bone. Slowly, I pulled the last remaining fabric down and took in the sight of him. I gasped softly, stunned and a little nervous to go further. What if I hurt him? What if I did something wrong?

“I’ve never⁠—”

“I know,” he said through clenched teeth, but his tone was gentle. “Take your time.”

I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He already looked like he was in pain. Eyes wide, I explored the girth of him. Fitting my fist around him was difficult, and I ended up squeezing tighter than I meant to. He gasped, jumping in my hand. I did it again and was rewarded with a growl.

Somehow, he’d grown impossibly harder under my attention, until the ruby head of him curved into the fine trail of hair under his belly button.

Did he actually expect something like that to fit inside me? I mean, we hadn’t discussed sex yet, but I knew what direction we were headed. I wanted that…but…I wasn’t so sure it was possible. Not after seeing what he’d successfully hidden until now. For obvious reasons, too, I was liable to break in two if he so much as⁠—

Wes’s hand moved under my chin and lifted my face to look at him.

“It’ll fit,” he vowed. “When the time comes, I’ll make sure of it.”

Goddess help me.