When We Touch

I’m standing in the street looking up at her, my chest rising and falling fast, waiting for one word.

“What do you want, Jackson?” Her voice is hushed, but loud enough for me to hear clearly.

“Tell me to come up,” I say in the same tone.

My muscles strain for her. I don’t know if anyone is around. I don’t think they are as most of the residents live further north in the old neighborhood part of town. It’s just like Ember to choose this place to live. She’s always been just outside their rules.

“No,” she says, but I hear the waver in her voice. “Go home.”

“You are my home.”

She’s quiet, but she doesn’t go away. She doesn’t close the doors and shut me out. It’s a start—a tiny one, but one I’ll take.

Without hesitation, I go to the scaffolding and climb. I’m on her balcony in seconds. Standing on the balcony, I’m feverish with anticipation of what might happen next.

She’s inside the room watching me through the open door.

“Come to me,” I say in a low voice.

It’s quieter with her so close, but the hush only makes it more intimate. A cloud moves across the moon, and the world goes dark. She’s lit from behind, and I see she’s only wearing a thin white tank and panties. I’m consumed with longing. My cock twitches in the darkness, and I want to bury it deep in her clenching heat. I want to kiss her pussy and make her come. I want to hear the moans that have haunted me for a decade. The cloud slides away and she disappears in the moonlight.

“Ember,” my voice cracks. “Please. Let me touch you.”

A quiet noise, a hesitation.

Suspense is a painful knot in my throat.

The slightest movement, and she steps forward into the silvery light. Her shirt is thin, and I can make out the dark tips of her nipples, beaded and pointing at me. I lift my hand, holding it palm up to her. It feels like an eternity, but she slowly places her hand in mine.

Our fingers thread, and the fist in my chest relaxes. I exhale a groan as I pull her to me, covering her small body with mine. Her face is at my sternum, and I hold her, wrapping her in my arms. Small hands touch my lower back, and I feel her tremble.

“Are you afraid?” I speak against her hair, kissing it, kissing the side of her head, inhaling deep breaths of her delicate lavender scent.

“Yes,” she whispers, and I lean back.

Her hands are still on my waist, and I cup her cheeks, looking deep into her brown eyes. They glisten in the moonlight, and I kiss them gently, left, right, salt on my tongue.

“Don’t fear me.”

She’s off her feet in a sweep, her back against the wall. Her legs are around my waist, and our mouths collide. Pushing her lips apart, I find her tongue. Oceans of warmth flood my veins.

Yes.

Home.

Ember.

I hold her by the ass, using my chest pressed against hers for balance. Our stomachs press together, skin against skin, and it feels so damn good.

A little moan slips from her mouth into mine. Her hands are on my neck, her thumb touching my jaw, moving to our mouths. She’s kissing me with as much need as I feel. I move away, and she follows, holding onto me and whimpering.

Heat burns where my erection is pressed against her core. Only a thin scrap of silk and my jeans stand between us.

Kissing her deeper, I taste her mouth. She’s oaky Chardonnay and saltwater sweet. She’s pulling my lips with hers, and I rock my erection against her clit.

Her head drops back and she moans, “Oh, God, Jackson.”

I trace my tongue up her slim neck to her jaw. “I want you so much.” I kiss her again. “I want you so much it hurts.”