Page 101 of Don't Say You're Sorry
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s clean you u?—”
Angry, I smack his hand away, making his lip twitch ever so slightly. He tries to turn toward the bathroom, but I grab hiswrist and spin him back, yanking him close and wrapping my other hand around the back of his neck. I hold him tight, not letting him move. “Look at me.”
He does. He’s so close, I can see the different shades of blue in his eyes. I can feel the heat of his body against mine. I can smell the scent of my aftershave on him.
“What?” he asks.
“How did you not know?”
His mouth sets in a tight line.
“Youknowme, Easton. You know I would never ignore you like that. You should have known,” I accuse, my eyes filling with more tears. I move my other hand up to his head and palm his face. “I would have come running for you. You know that, right?”
He hesitates, and it tears me up inside.
“Please, tell me you know that.”
“I know now,” he finally says. “But back then… You weren’t there, Adam. You don’t know what it was like for me. I thought you didn’t care anymore.”
“Impossible.”
He licks his bottom lip, and I follow the path with my thumb.
“Not a day went by when my heart didn’t ache for you as much as yours did me,” I tell him. “It still aches for you now, even when you’re right here in front of me.”
We breathe deeply, our mouths brushing every time one of us moves.
“Kiss me,” I say.
“Make me.”
It’s the loudest yes I’ve ever heard.
I move so fast that our heads knock as I pull him in and force his lips to mine. His hands squeeze my hips, and he kisses me without reservation, proving he’s been waiting for this for as long as I have.
The tightness in my chest evaporates. My shoulders drop. My muscles loosen. My head clears of all thoughts minus him and the feel of his kiss.
Finally. I can breathe again.
I tilt his head to one side, and he opens his mouth for me, granting me access. I take full advantage, slotting my lips between his and teasing his tongue with mine. As soon as he gets a taste of me, all bets are off. My back crashes into the wall, and I laugh, looping my arms around his neck. His hands glide down my thighs, and he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I moan into his mouth. Since when can he pick me up?
“You’ve been holding out on me,” I rasp.
He chuckles. “Nate’s been dragging me to the gym with him since freshman year. Weight training is a good stress reliever. I’m stronger now.”
“I can see that.”
Never breaking the kiss, he pulls me off the wall and carries me to the bed. I land on my back, the sheets soft and cool beneath me. Tugging on his lip with my teeth, I reach for the button of his jeans. He knocks my hand away. “No. I don’t want to fuck. I want to kiss you.”
I lift my hands up and grin, relishing the feel of his mouth on mine.
“Just you and me,” I whisper.
He nods. “Just you and me, baby.”
We kiss until our lips are swollen, our bodies as close as they can get, our limbs wrapped around each other.
At some point in the night, I roll him onto his back and climb on top of him. Propping myself up on my forearm, I run my finger over every inch of his perfect face, taking in every detail. His dark eyebrows. His sky-blue eyes. His long eyelashes. His high cheekbones that pop when he smiles. His full lips, evenfuller now, thanks to me. His hard jaw. The cute-as-fuck dimple in his chin.
