I think he stops breathing.
Waiting for his reply kills me, because he could decide he doesn’t want this. Or that he thinks we should wait. Or that I’m too fragile.
After what feels like an eternity, he asks, “You’ll tell me to stop if it gets to be too much?”
Licking my lips, I nod.
He studies me, brushing his thumb against my cheek before nodding back. “I haven’t slept with anyone since before you moved here.”
My eyes widen. “But Rachel…”
Shaking his head, he kisses me again. “I just said that to mess with you. I’m an asshole, remember? I do stupid shit.”
“Do you think this is stupid?” I hate how vulnerable I sound, but it’s a question worth asking.
“Sleeping with my stepsister?” he replies, unblinking. “Probably. Sleeping with Emery Matterson? A fighter? Someone who’s strong and resilient and doesn’t give in to my bullshit? No. I don’t think that’s stupid at all.”
His words warm my heart, but not as much as when he grabs my hand gently and interweaves our fingers together. Squeezing gently, he kisses me, trailing his lips across my cheek and to the shell of my ear.
“I think,” he whispers, his breath tickling me until I shiver, “that this is beyond us. It makes sense. Probably more sense than anything else.”
“Why?”
“Because we fit together.”
We do?
“Don’t you feel it?” he murmurs, nipping at my earlobe.
My chest fills.
> My stomach flutters.
Yes, I want to say. I’ve felt it for months.
“I need to get a condom.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nerves get the better of me when he’s hovering over me with wandering hands. I’m hyperaware of the foil packet beside us on the mattress, and I know where it goes and what it’s for. I never thought I’d ever see one or experience this though.
“Get out of your head,” he tells me, pushing up to meet my eyes.
My palms rest against his waist. “I can’t help it. I know what’s going to happen and I keep thinking I’m going to mess it up. You know, do something stupid.”
He chuckles, reaching up and brushing hair out of my face. “What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I…” I don’t know.
He kisses me, tasting me slowly, before pulling away slightly. “I promise you’re not going to mess this up. There’s no way you can. So stop overthinking and tell me what you want.”
What I want?
His hands travel down my body leisurely, resting just below my navel. His thumb brushes the elastic of my pajama pants until a heat rises between my legs and makes me squirm. “Where do you feel you want me, Mouse?”
My lips part, then close.
His thumb dips under the band, tracing my skin. “Am I getting close?”