He nods with nervousness in his eyes as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I was actually doing it this morning right before you called… I woke up and just kind of decided that it was time.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but it is. It’s huge. I know because I’ve been through something similar with Landon’s photos.
Stunned, I return my attention to him. “You should have told me. You just took a huge step.”
He grazes my bottom lip with his thumb, a trace of a smile at his lips as he shakes his head. “Stop worrying about me, Nova. I’ll be okay… if they were still up then you’d have to worry.” His voice wobbles. “It was good that I took that step even though it was hard.”
“I know, but it still had to be hard for you… but I’m proud of you.” I slip my arms around his waist. “You’re doing so good.”
His breathing increases. “I hope I can stay that way.”
“You can,” I say. “I know you can.”
He swallows hard and then he deliberately leans in and presses his lips to mine, stealing my breath away. And just like that all my reservations disappear. Even when he unhooks my bra and slips off my panties, I barely feel my nerves. I only feel him as I help him slip his shirt off his head, then run my fingers across the ridges of his lean muscles, basking in everything about him. His warmth. The way his heart beats in his chest when I press my palm on top of it. The smoothness of his skin. The only thing that pains me is the feel of the scar and the sight of the tattoos and he winces every time I touch them.
“Are you okay?” I ask, withdrawing my hand from his scar.
His eyelids flutter up, terror filling them. “I’m fine… I’m just nervous.”
“Good. I’m glad I’m not the only one.” I don’t mean to say it aloud, it just sort of slips out.
He gives me a crooked smile as my cheeks start to heat, but then he starts kissing me again, slow and sensual, as if he’s savoring each second, each brush of his finger, each entanglement of our tongues. When he backs me up toward the bed, I move with him, letting him lay me down and cover my body with his. His fingers roam all over my body, not missing a single part of me, caressing my inner thighs before he slips them inside me and starts moving them. I grasp the blanket, trying to hold on to something as I get lost in a place I didn’t think existed. A place where nothing exists, except the two of us. It’s the most amazing feeling, one I haven’t felt in a very long time. All the stress and worry diminish. All the bad is temporarily gone. And as I cry out, something bursting deep inside me, I want nothing more than to hold on to this feeling forever. But seconds later, it slowly slips away and I have to return to reality.
Quinton
Feeling her like this… touching her like this… it’s more potent and intoxicating than drugs. If I could, I would stay this way forever, tasting her and touching her until my heart stopped beating and I took my last breath. The sight of her, with her head tipped back and her eyes glossed over with pure contentment, has me wishing I could pause the moment so I could stop and draw it.
“Quinton,” she moans, letting go of the blanket and holding on to me as if her life depends on it.
It’s one of the most terrifying feelings I’ve ever experienced. Having her want and need me this much and wanting and needing her this much. It’s unexpected. Undeserved. But unavoidable. I know this now. Whether I deserve this, if it’s wrong, if I’m being selfish because of this, letting Lexi go for a moment to be wholeheartedly with someone else, I can’t stop it. Nova owns my heart and I can’t get it back from her.
So I keep pushing her to the edge, letting her get lost, until she completely breaks apart in my arms. After she comes down, I dip my lips to hers and kiss her deliberately, my movements calculated as I explore her, memorizing every single inch of her. Her hands start to wander over my body and toward the button of my jeans. With a flick of her finger, she undoes it, then slides her hand down and rubs me hard. Part of me wants to stop her—slow things down—but I’m too far gone to pull back. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I push up from her to get out of my jeans. Then, after grabbing a condom out of my nightstand drawer, I return my body over hers, murmuring something about being sure she wants this. She nods enthusiastically and a few heartbeats later, I’m slipping inside her, with no hesitation. She winces, the pain in her body making her muscles tighten and her legs press firmly against the sides of my hips.
I pause, panting as I gaze down at her. “Are you okay?”
She nods, her hands sliding up my back, her gaze fastened on mine, her brown hair a halo around her head as she lies on my bed, peering up at me. “Yeah, just go slow.”
Nodding, I slowly rock inside her again and she grips my back and guides me to her. With each thrust she starts to loosen up and before I know it, she’s moving rhythmically with me. Heat builds inside me, my skin dampening with sweat as my heart races madly inside my chest, my attention focused on her and the lost look in her eyes as I push her closer and closer until both of us can barely hold on.
I never thought I’d experience this ever again. Never thought it would be possible to be with someone else like this and not feel pain and anguish, but for the briefest moment they’re gone and I am free.
* * *
“Quinton.” Nova’s eyes are wide as she gasps, clinging to me, lifting her hips to meet mine one last time before I lose touch with reality, drifting off into a place of contentment—a place that I’ve only been able to reach with drugs over the last two years. It breaks me and then puts me back together and for the briefest moment, it feels like everything is going to be okay.
After we both catch our breaths, I slowly slip out of her and then we lie side by side, our fingers laced together as we silently take in what just happened. I feel different. Changed. Confused. Content. Lost. Guilty. Happy. I’m not even sure what to do with the last emotion. I’ve sort of gotten used to the more complex, darker emotions that I’ve struggled with in the past. As I lie there struggling to sift through my emotions and trying to figure out how to deal with them, Nova rolls onto her side and faces me. “Tell me what you’re thinking?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbow, the blanket resting over her bottom half. She self-consciously pulls it over her chest. “I need to know, otherwise I’m going to sit here worrying that you… that you regret what just happened.”