“Okay,” he said with a confused look. “I don’t care either?”
“I mean, I don’t care if anyone sees us together. Or if they think I ended things with Beau because of you,” I clarified. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want to be with you. I want to really try and make this work. You and me.”
“Man, am I relieved to hear you say that.” He wrapped his other arm around my waist and with the other lifted me up until I could wrap my legs around him. “That’s exactly what I want, too.” With my body pressed firmly held against his, he reclaimed my mouth with his. I could feel my heart beating against his chest as he carried me toward the steps that led to his bedroom. He lowered my feet on the second step up so I was eye to eye with him when he broke our kiss.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m planning on taking you upstairs in a second and showing you exactly how badly I’ve missed you.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “So why the pit stop?”
“Just giving you a second to catch your breath before I remind you exactly why you belong to me,” he said with a devilish smirk.
I felt like my heart was going to beat clean out of my chest, but I tried to pretend like I was calm and collected as we walked up the stairs to my bedroom. Her small hand was in mine, leading the way. There wasn’t a thing in the world that I wanted more than to take her to bed. I’d been thinking about her since the moment I’d last saw her and the fact that she showed up in the middle of the night, well, that was just like having a genie grant my unspoken wish. The black leggings she was wearing clung to the curves of her hips and ass, leaving little the imagination. The view in front of me was nice, but I had a feeling peeling her clothes off was going to be much more satisfying. She kicked off her shoes when we walked through the door and reached for the zipper of the sweatshirt—my sweatshirt—she was wearing.
“Let me.” I placed my hand over hers and slowly pulled the zipper down. “It is my shirt after all.”
“I think I’m going to keep it,” she said with a grin. “Looks better on me.”
“It does look better on you, but it will look even better on the floor,” I said, pushing the jacket from her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a heap behind her. “Speaking of things you stole from me,” I chuckled, when I saw the motocross T-shirt she had on underneath of the jacket. It was one of the very first TEAM TRAVERS shirts that I’d had made when I was on the amateur circuit.
“This one is mine,” she corrected. Turning to show me the back of the shirt, her hand brushing her long hair to one side. My racing number, 237, in the middle of a big pink heart. Yeah, that was definitely her shirt. A rush of warmth spread through my chest seeing my number on her body again. A sight I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.
“I’m surprised you kept it,” I confessed, replacing her hand with mine and moving her hair a little farther to the side. That fact that she had kept it all these years made me wonder if that meant I still had her heart. The coy smile she was giving me over her shoulder reminded me she definitely still had mine. I lowered my mouth, my lips touching the space where her neck and shoulder met. She trembled against me as I pressed my body up against hers.
“You know, I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.” She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over head. I stepped back to give her room. She turned to face me, the thin white material of her bra softly cupping her perfect, perky breasts. It reminded me of the night we’d spent together in this very room after prom. The night we’d first had sex and the nervous way she crossed her arms over her flat stomach as if she had a reason to hide her body. There was not a thing for her to be self-conscious about. She was perfect then. She was perfect now.
“You look incredible,” I told her, moving to place my hands on her hips. “You always did, but even more now.” I paused. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”
“The past is the past,” she said softly. “I don’t want to waste another minute dwelling. I want to be in the present with you now.”
She was always beautiful, but the way she’d matured since I’d last seen her was enough to make it feel like our first time all over again. I pushed aside any thoughts I was having about not being able to please her the second she let her arms drop and allowed me to really see her. She was mine. I knew exactly what she liked. What she loved. Seven years might have changed some things, but I was confident that I could still make her body hum with excitement. Instinctively, we knew what each other liked, even time apart couldn’t change that. Being able to touch her again, to kiss her, to hold her, it was the best second chance I’d ever gotten. I would make sure that I never took a single moment with her for granted.
She reached for my shirt and I raised my arms as she slid it up and raised up on the tips of her toes to get it over my head. Her chest pressed against mine, and it took every ounce of control I had not to devour her. Her fingers traced down my chest as her eyes followed the ink that stained my skin. When she placed a soft kiss at the center of my chest, a moan rumbled from deep in my throat urging her exploration of my body. The control that she had was much more than I had myself, so I let her lead. It was a big step for her to come back here tonight.
I wanted to reciprocate, but I was anchored in place as her hands moved to my hips. Her thumbs tucking under the waistband of my pants as she continued to pepper kisses across my chest. Wearing sweats that night was one of the best decisions I made that day as I could easily remove them, but this was her show. I let her continue her slow assault on my senses, enjoying every second. Her mouth seemed innocent—her kisses soft and unrushed. But when her tongue slipped between her pouty pink lips and flicked against my nipple, I knew that her intentions were anything but.
When I just couldn’t take it anymore, my hand tangled in the hair at the back of her neck and pulled her face back up to mine. I covered her mouth with mine and kissed her deeply. My tongue swept between her lips and moved against hers as I walked her backwards towards my bed. Deftly, I unhooked her bra before I tugged it from her body and let it drop to the floor.
There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but showing her how I felt about her seemed to be a more pressing issue. My cock was throbbing and begging to be released as I she sat on the edge of the bed and started to scoot back. Her eyes locked on mine, tempting me to follow her. Before she scooted out of my reach, I grabbed the waist of her pants and pulled them down her long tanned legs, leaving just the scrap of fabric she considered underwear.
“You forgot something,” she said with a mischievous grin, snapping the side of her panties with her fingertips.
“I didn’t forget.” I said lowering my body to the bed to hover above her. My head resting just above her stomach. “I need a reminder to take this slow.” I bit my lip, drinking in the image of her, and looked up to see her anxiously anticipating my next move. “Once those are gone, all bets are off,” I warned.
I began kissing my way up her legs—back and forth between the left and right—until I spotted a small pucker of skin on the inside of her left calf. I pressed my lips to the scar, remembering exactly how she got it. It had been my fault. The first time I’d ever given her a ride on my bike she’d been wearing shorts.
“You remember?” she asked softly.
“Of course,” I said, dropping my lips to her skin again. “I should have told you to put on some pants.” I remember how terrible I felt that day. I was only fifteen and thought surely she’d never speak to me again. I was showing off, taking her a little too fast around the curves. I was lucky that burn from the motor was all that happened. My stupid teenage hormones and pride had gotten the best of me. She’d tried to play it off and act cool—fighting back the tears and a scream when we stopped to assess the damage. “Sorry, baby.”