It’s a good point. At the very least, one I can exploit for now.
“Rebecca, you look like you want to say something.”
I glance at Clausen, glad he picked up on my signal. “She’s right.”
“How so?”
I clear my throat, trying to read his side of the challenge. “In my case, people don’t like when I see into their heads. It’s up to me to respect their privacy and try to avoid contact as much as possible. If I do see something, I try my best to ignore it.”
“But not always.”
I shrug. “I’m not perfect, of course, but I try not to.”
“Anyone else have something to add?” When no one responds, he turns to Daniel. “What about you? Boundaries are something you do well.”
Daniel leans back, clearly bored. “Boundaries are subjective. That’s not even a question you can answer.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He rubs at his eyes, and I wonder if he’ll even respond. Finally, he lets out a long breath. “Each person has their own set of boundaries that they alter for every person they encounter. Those people alter their boundaries for each person they encounter. Every relationship is a unique organism of boundaries that ebbs and flows based on infinite variables ofcircumstances and conditions. You don’t control boundaries, they control you.”
“But don’t you think we each have an intrinsic code, even if it varies?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. We’re different people to different people under different circumstances.”
“That’s a pessimistic view.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“So you’re saying you’re a different person with some people than with others.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I like to think I’m pretty consistent.”
Daniel smirks. “Good to know.” His gaze drifts to me across the circle, and my blood sears hot.
My body senses Daniel before my head. The heat, the familiar scent of mint and bodywash I don’t remember but I do—every cell is fully aware of him as he pulls me from the stream of students and into an abandoned alcove. Soon we’re in a supply closet with my back pressed against the door and his hard body molded to mine. The message in his hooded eyes sends my heart pounding, exploding fantasies into hunger. I pull in a sharp inhale when his fingers tangle in my hair and expose my neck for the shivering caress of his lips. A moan leaks from my throat as he samples my sensitive skin.
“I thought…”
He cuts me off with a hungry kiss, and I sift through his memories for one as intense as the present.
I reach under his shirt, loving the way he tenses and surrenders to my touch. Wherever my fingers go, trails of fire leave a bold claim. Possession. I want him burning like I am, craving me like the addiction I have to him. My hands can’t get enough of his perfect body, and I gasp as his hips dig into mine. Fire rages low and deep. My hips arch against him again and again, seeking, driven by need. He’ll be my first, my everything.
He flinches and pulls away. “You’re a virgin?” he asks, his voice strained. He sounds like he’s in physical pain.
I meet his tortured gaze, my own breathing heavy and labored. “You know what happens when I get close to people.”
He steps back, rubbing a hand over his head. I go cold at the separation.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, just…”
