It’s a stretch. I know it, but my body buzzes to feel his hands on me. I want to feel his words, poetry on my skin, because those secret words he wrote were beautiful. And I want to see more. To know what other magic he hides inside him.
We’ve both had so many things taken from us that I think we deserve to give something back to each other. Whatever we can.
“Stay…,” I whisper. I try to look away, but Adrian doesn’t let me. The hand on my face gently holds it in place.
“I need to know how drunk you are right now.”
“Kind of late to ask that, isn’t it?” Fake laughter forces its way from my mouth.
“It’s too late for a lot of things, but not that.”
He’s right. Adrian doesn’t know it, but that’s exactly what I need to hear. I think it’s too late. Too late to walk away and too late to pretend there’s not more to my reason for being around him. There’s something about him that I don’t want to deny. Something that speaks to me, me. When others feel like this foreign language I’m trying to work out, I somehow understand Adrian. Not all of him. I’m not that stupid. I also know it could all be in my head, but it feels real and I like him and it’s too late to turn back.
I don’t know if it was the food or our conversation, but when I speak, I know my words are true. “I couldn’t be any more sober right now.”
He gives me a small nod and walks over to the bedroom door, flipping the lock. Adrian drops to his knees in front of me, putting us at eye level. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me want you so fucking bad.”
They might not be the words a girl longs to hear, but I cherish them. Because they’re real and real is better than a pretty lie.
Adrian leans toward me, his body fitting between my legs. I think he’s going to kiss me, but his tongue circles the hollow spot at the base of my throat. Tingles start in that spot and shoot through me.
“I could see your pulse and I wanted to taste it.”
Before I have a chance to swoon over his words, his mouth comes down on mine. I expect it to be urgent, frenzied, but he takes his time, letting his tongue stroke my own. His hands move to my neck, push through my hair, and it’s so soft that I want to cry, but it feels so good I almost can’t help the moan that slips out. His bandages scrape against my skin, which makes my pulse skyrocket, to feel that small bit of rough in all of Adrian’s softness. I wonder if that explains him. If he’s made up of rough and soft, each giving and taking, unsure which will overcome.
“This shirt has to go,” he says when his mouth pulls away from me. Adrian grabs each of my arms, his hands running up them as he tugs mine in the air before he starts to lift my shirt. There’s a brief moment where I think I should be embarrassed. This is different than the darkened car, and I know our journey will take us farther too.
But I can’t. Not when he’s throwing my shirt to the floor, his mouth kissing the swells of my breasts, his skin so warm. His kiss is electric and I find myself wishing my bra was gone, too.
Without my having to ask, deft hands make quick work of the clasp. His mouth is on mine again, tasting of syrup as he slides my bra away. His eyes trace me, like he’s reading me. Like I’m the paper he writes on or the book he keeps hidden but must be important to him.
“Jesus, you are so hot.” His fingers trace the freckles on my shoulders. “I want to connect all the dots. See every spot on your body,” he tells me.
My heart drums. Heat burns through me. “Girls stand no chance against you, do they?”
He laughs at that. “I pay attention,” he says. “You like to be touched. Anywhere. Skin to skin makes you smile.” Adrian traces a path down to my hips. “Or blush. I bet it makes your heart race too. I feel you shiver every time I touch you.”
I can’t help but to close my eyes. I’m afraid I’m going to cry because he’s right. It makes me feel close to someone and that’s what I want. I want to feel close to him.
“I don’t have condoms with me, Little Ghost.” The name shocks me. It’s different than Casper… somehow more intimate. He’s placing closemouthed kisses to the corner of my lips now. My jaw, my neck. It’s almost too much for me to think, but his words push through.
It’s another thing that should scare me. The fact that I’d be willing to give him something tonight that I’ve never given to anyone else. That I want to. “But I thought…”
“There are other things we can do. I don’t go there without condoms. Ever. I’ll still make you feel good, though.”
There isn’t a second I doubt those words. I look at him and smile. His hands are on me when I do and I wonder if he thinks it’s because he’s touching me. That’s not the only reason.
“Stand up.” Adrian scoots back enough for me to stand. He’s still on his knees, and I know when he does what he’s about to do. His face will be…
“Should we lie on the bed?”
“We will,” he says. And then he’s helping me to my feet. His fingers work the button on my jeans. My zipper goes next. Adrian’s slow as he pulls my pants and panties down my legs. He looks up at me. At all of me, his eyes reading me like they do and his hands running up the curves of my calves, behind my knees. I want him to see my story, but I want to cover myself too. It’s too much. Too painful and embarrassing.
“This is going to kill me, but it’s not a bad way to go.”
His words make me laugh, taking away any urge I felt to hide.
His finger brushes over the apex of my thighs and he mutters, “So pretty,” making heat run the length of me. No one has ever, ever talked to me like that before.
Adrian stands up. His mouth molds against mine and his hand pushes through my hair again. He’s more urgent now. More needy as he backs me up so I have no choice but to lie on the bed. He comes down on top of me, his lips traveling my body: lips, neck, breasts. His tongue traces one pebbled peak and then the other, before sucking each into his mouth, one at a time.
My fingers tighten around his hair as I arch forward, my body begging for the things my mouth could never say.
“I’m getting there, Little Ghost,” he says, a chuckle in his voice.
“I want to feel you too,” I say, and he rips his shirt off before sliding down my body. I don’t look at him. Can’t. Just let my hands touch his shoulders and back and hope the feel of me gives him some of what his touch gives me.
My eyes close. In this moment, I can do nothing but feel. Feel his mouth slide lower, across my belly, my hips, and then he’s right at the spot that’s aching for him.
“I want to taste you.”
“Please,” I rasp out. He could do anything to me right now and I’d let him.
The first lash of his tongue sends a jolt through me, passion and pleasure shooting in every direction.
I arch when a finger pushes inside, his tongue still driving me wild. My hips rotate, trying to get as close to him as I can as that ache builds higher, higher until I’m afraid it’s going to make me come apart at the seams.
And then I do, my body exploding from the touch of a man for the first time in my life.
My breathing is heavy and I still can’t open my eyes. “That was amazing.”
“That wasn’t enough.”
And then he does it again.
And I come apart for the second time.
My body’s limp, completely weak, when Adrian pulls away. “Wait,” I say. Open your eyes. But I’m tired. So very tired.
“I’m just turning off the light.”