I want to tell him that what they’re offering is too much, that we’re all too young to trust our feelings, to know they’re real and lasting. That relationships formed under intense circumstances never work out in the long run.
But all of that is bullshit.
Because this?
This is real.
These boys are offering to walk through fire for me, and that’s about as goddamn real as anything in this world gets.
So I don’t tell him he’s wrong.
I show him he’s right.
My arms wrap tighter around him, pulling him toward me as I tilt my face up even more, rising onto my tiptoes to meet his lips. They’re warm and soft, and it feels like such a relief to have them pressed against mine that I sigh into his mouth.
His hands are in my hair, holding my head as he kisses me—soft and slow at first, then deeper, more demanding.
I give him everything he wants, opening my mouth as his tongue sweeps between my lips, running over my teeth and brushing against my tongue like he’s still trying to catalogue every inch of me.
His hands go to the towel I’m wearing, and a second later, the soft fabric spills to the floor, letting a rush of air greet my suddenly naked body.
Chase steps back then, his eyes hungry and playful as he takes the opportunity to look at me like this, his bright eyes still snapping mental photographs.
I bite my lip, my toes curling into the floor and my clit throbbing as I feel his gaze everywhere. He’s dressed for sleep in loose-fitting sweats and a soft, worn tee that hugs the planes of his chest and shoulders, and he looks so fucking good like this. Casual and messy.
Still, I can’t help but wish he was wearing a lot fewer clothes.
I glance down at myself and then back up at him, raising my eyebrows. “Well, this just seems unfair.”
He grins, stepping forward and skimming his hands along the curve of my waist, over the swell of my hips. “I dunno. I kinda like it.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do.”
A broad smile spreads across his face. Then he’s kissing me again, sliding his hands over my ass and gripping my thighs as he lifts me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him, winding my arms around his neck and devouring his lips with mine until he sets me down on the bed.
He pulls back, and I grudgingly release him, already missing the feeling of his hard, muscled body pressed against mine.
I rise up onto my elbows and watch as he lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor in a smooth motion. He grabs the waistband of his pants and grins as my gaze immediately darts downward. Then he stretches the elastic to draw it over his jutting cock and pushes his sweats and boxer briefs down together.
Fuck, he’s gorgeous.
I’ve seen him naked once before, the night we all played poker, but there’s something different about this. Tonight, it’s just the two of us, and we’re not hiding behind a game of strip poker, using the cards as our excuse. Tonight, I get to look my fill just because I want to.
And I do want to. I want to look and touch. To feel his smooth, golden skin and run my fingertips over the line at his waist where the skin turns a little paler. I want to bury my fingers in his hair, to press my body against his, to watch his expression change as he comes.
“That’s better.” I bite my lip, grinning like an idiot. “Now we’re even.”
“Yeah. We are.”
He starts moving before he finishes talking, crawling up onto the bed with me and draping his large body over mine as I open my legs for him. His weight pins me to the mattress as he attacks me with lips, teeth, and tongue, drawing his mouth up and down the line of my neck, over my breasts, along my collarbone. I grab onto his hair and close my eyes, letting the wash of feelings sweep me away.
When I feel the head of his cock at my entrance, I open them and find him gazing down at me. We stare at each other in dazed wonder as he slides inside inch by inch, my body stretching and opening for him.
Once he’s filling me up completely, he stops.
His body shudders, and he drops his head, breathing heavily.
I’m breathing harder too, pleasure spiking in my veins, and I roll my hips against him, needing more movement, more friction.