Pieces of Summer

I run my hands along his shoulders as thunder rumbles across the sky, and my eyes lock with his as a slow smile starts to spread.

“Either my memories are rusty, or you’ve gotten a hell of a lot better at that.”

He smirks before reaching between us, and I pull one leg up as he pulls my panties off it, freeing my legs so he can settle in between them.

“When you tell me what happened, I’ll show you some other areas I’ve improved in.”

My smile dies immediately, and he studies my eyes as my lips tense. In only my bra, I feel exposed now instead of intimate. He’s the first guy to see me in this context. In the past, when I was still trying to be intimate with people, I kept my shirt on. With Chase, I forgot I’m not the pretty sixteen-year-old girl whose life was once better than most.

“Let it go, Chase,” I whisper, hoping he stays on top of me instead of revealing the scars again.

“If you want me, Mika, you are going to have to let it go,” he says, brushing his lips over mine. “I’m not getting inside you until I know who did that to you and what happened. And trust me, you want me inside you.”

Heat licks at my insides as I squirm beneath him, and my legs slide up and wrap around his waist.

“Again, my memory may be rusty, but I recall you being a little less patient than that,” I murmur while tilting my hips and pressing myself against his bare torso.

A groan passes through his lips, but he just narrows his eyes at me.

“I was a horny teenager back then. I’ve grown up a little, and I can promise you I’ll impress you with more than just my patience. Why won’t you tell me?”

Thunder booms as though it’s an omen of things to pass, and I blow out a breath while wrapping my arms around his neck.

“If you’re not going to wow me with your alleged skills, then let’s order pizza before the power goes out. I hate eating in the dark.”

He doesn’t look happy about that, but he pulls me to my feet. Immediately, I turn away and shimmy my shirt back on before pulling my panties back into place. He leaves his shirt off, and he watches me hurry through the process of covering up. I look around for my shorts, but remember he took them off in another room.

He orders pizza, and by some miracle, the power stays on in spite of the storm. He keeps looking at me questioningly, and I keep tugging at my shirt reflexively. When he opens the fridge, he frowns while looking in.

“Why do you have a gallon of water, a pint of half-and-half, and two jugs of orange juice, but nothing else?” he muses, possibly trying to make light conversation.

It’s not a light conversation topic, though. Explaining my limited pantry and fridge choices goes into the complicated enigma that is me these days. It’s an adopted lifestyle of necessity, not of choice.

Too deep.

Too soon.

Too much.

“I like to keep my options limited since I’m on a diet,” I lie. It’s a stupid lie since I’m about to eat pizza with him, and he’s definitely seen me not eat like someone on a diet.

He cocks an eyebrow, letting his gaze rake over me. I’m still in just my panties and my T-shirt. “You don’t need to be on a diet,” he says idly, then opens the freezer without looking inside it. “And I don’t think strawberry ice cream fits into a diet. Why are you lying to me?”

I shouldn’t have lied. It was a terrible lie.

“I’m a takeout whore,” I say around a sigh, to which he laughs. It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either. I wish I could keep my house stocked with groceries. But that… gets messy.

All those expiration dates are a daunting problem, and feeling like I’m in a race to finish it all before that date… Well, life sucks with a full fridge.

Turning around, I go to find my shorts, but just as I start to pull them on, he’s jerking them out of my hand and tossing them over his shoulder.

“It’s easier to torture you this way,” he murmurs while stepping closer, sliding his hands over the skin of my hips and slipping his fingers just below my panty line.

I stare up, watching his eyes as he watches me, waiting for me to spill secrets I never will.

“Do you like what you see when you look at me?” I whisper softly.

His brow furrows in confusion.