I had missed him.
He held me during the night. I started to move around, growing restless later, I wasn’t sure how long it was. He pulled me back into his arms and smoothed his hand down my face. “Sleep, Sheldon. I know you chose out of anger. I know it wasn’t the truth. I’ll tell Bryce tomorrow.”
I heard the regret in his voice.
Then he added, “But I need to be with you tonight.” His arms tightened. “I need to hold you for one last night.”
I couldn’t sleep after that. Turning to face him squarely, we were both lying on our sides. I lifted a hand and touched the side of his face. We were just holding the other. I remembered the hunger from him earlier, and I felt the same stirrings in me again.
I said, “I don’t know who I’m going to choose.” Those damn tears were coming back. I felt them. “I can’t lie. I haven’t chosen because I have no idea. I love both of you. Bryce is passionate, like a thunderstorm.” And Corrigan was tender, like a gentle rainfall. Both were loving. Both were my other half. “I’m sorry, Corrigan.”
“Sheldon.” He sounded uncertain.
“Yes?”
“I’ve never told you exactly how I feel.”
I held my breath. Was he . . .?
“I know you’re going to pick, and I know it’s go
ing to be him, but.” He scooted closer. An inch separated us. I could feel his warm breath on my face. It was warming me, igniting a fire inside me. “Can I—” He bit off, his eyes clouded with doubt.
“What?”
I was staring right into his eyes. I started to plead with him. I didn’t say the words, but I was saying it with my eyes. He saw it, and he closed his eyes, a sound of relief coming from him. I felt his entire body relax. Then he inched close, so close, so slowly, until I felt his lips on mine. He held there, waiting for my answer.
I responded. I opened my mouth and moved against him, applying the gentlest of pressure to him. It was what I needed.
Then his hand came to my side, and I gasped. The feeling sent a rush of tingles through me. It was like I hadn’t been touched in so long, like this was my first time with a boy. A small dose of adrenaline surged in my blood. I was growing heated from the excitement. I wanted him that night. If this was the only time, I wanted to make it last.
Corrigan cupped the back of my head and rolled so he was above me. I turned to my back and held his face to mine. His lips explored mine. When his tongue slipped inside, it was natural. This was new, but it felt like we’d been kissing like this forever. A surreal emotion was winding around me, dragging me further into a spell.
I needed his touch. I just needed more of him.
“Sheldon,” he whispered against my lips.
I kissed him harder. There were words I wanted to say. They wanted to spill out, and I had to hold them back, not until I knew for sure, so I kissed him again, and again, and again. I didn’t stop kissing him. Not after his shirt was lifted free, not after I felt his skin against mine, and he was pressing me into the bed. Not after he trailed kisses down my throat, then to the valley between my breasts and over each of them. Not after he continued caressing me, not after his hands circled my breasts, cupping them and rubbing over my nipple. Not after his hand slid inside my shorts, and I felt him rest there, right at my entrance. He circled it with his finger, rubbing over it, and I was panting.
I was silently begging for more, but I still bit down on my lip. If I let those words slip out, I didn’t know what else would slip out. Then I felt his fingers move inside me, and he waited, stretching my insides.
I could only pant. I lay there, unable to do anything as overwhelming pleasure was coursing through me. With my eyelids so heavy, I looked down. He looked up. His mouth hovered over me, watching as his fingers continued sliding in and out, building. As our gazes held, his eyes were so damn dark, and then he lowered so his lips were there.
I almost screamed at the touch of them.
I reached out, needing to hold onto something. My hands first went to his shoulders, but he pressed his lips harder. His fingers kept moving, in and out.
“Corrigan,” I finally gasped. I could barely talk.
As his tongue swept over me, tasting me, my hand formed a fist on his shoulder. Without looking at me, he grabbed my hand and guided me to hold onto the headboard. My god. I kept panting. My body was overheated. The pleasure kept building and building. I didn’t know how much more I could take, but he kept going. His tongue and fingers. He kept stretching me, pushing harder, then he would wait and pause when I was near the edge. A beat would pass. I would come down a little, then he would work me back up.
When he finally allowed me to come, I was spent. I collapsed, and I gasped, drawing in mouthfuls of air and wave after wave rocked my body. I tingled everywhere, where he was still resting on me, where his fingers remained inside me, the slight kiss from his lips on my stomach.
I felt everywhere.
“Corrigan.” I wanted to return the favor, and I reached for him.
He shook his head, evading my hands. He grinned at me and said, “Hold on.” Then his fingers started again.