And Then There Was Her (And then There Was 1)
And then we were kissing, nothing else mattering but that one moment where we were finally together again.
I tangled my hands in his hair, keeping him pressed to me, afraid this was a dream and he’d disappear. He slid his other hand around me was, his forearm spanning my lower back, the force of him keeping me to his body so pronounced I knew without a doubt he was afraid I’d drift away too.
And in that moment I was Alice once more, falling down the rabbit hole. But unlike her, this was all I’d ever wanted.
7
Adele
We found ourselves back at my apartment, the emotions, the heat so pronounced I felt like I was drowning and breathing all in the same breath. We’d barely been able to keep our hands off each other on the cab ride over. It was like we’d been chained up, locked away without light or air, food or water.
But now that we had each other, we were kings, feasting.
We were a mess of tangled limbs, uncoordinated movements, and matching arousal that couldn’t be doused even if we wanted to. We tumbled through the front door, and I haphazardly kicked it shut with my foot, not letting go of Oliver, not wanting to break the spell that surrounded us.
“God, I’ve been dreaming of this moment,” he murmured against my mouth, and I swallowed the words. He moved us backward, and he ran into the kitchen table, the small glass vase that housed a single daisy tipping over. I was vaguely aware of the sound of water dripping on the floor, but I didn’t care. I only cared about this moment.
But I found myself breathing heavily, sucking in great lungfuls of air. My body felt hot, my skin on fire. My city apartment was tiny, one area that housed the living room and kitchen, the dining room too. The bedroom and bathroom were down an equally tiny hallway, and all I could think about was going in there, tearing off our clothing, and getting lost in each other.
“I can’t breathe,” I said, or maybe I shouted it in my head. I couldn’t tell because I felt so drunk on desire.
“Come here, Adele.” His voice was low, hoarse, and there was a touch of dominance in it. A part of me hoped he couldn’t help it, that he was too far gone in this moment to try to control himself.
Being with Oliver felt right. It had from the moment I looked into his eyes as I sang that song onstage. That feeling was solidified when I heard his voice, when I felt his touch.
And I knew he was my soul mate, the person I was meant to be with, when I saw him again just hours ago looking into my eyes with that same passion as before.
I didn’t want to let this go, didn’t want to lose what we obviously had.
We knew essentially nothing about each other, but that didn’t matter. I knew in my heart what I wanted, what was right, and that was being with Oliver.
And he looked at me like he wanted me naked, like he wanted to devour me, tear into me until there was nothing left in the best of ways.
And God, did I want that, especially right now.
All I could think about was telling him all these things moving through my head, all the things I’d thought about for the past ninety days. He’d think I was crazy if I uttered love, that I felt like I’d fallen in love with him at first sight.
Each day, those feelings became stronger, harder to ignore.
“Come here, Adele,” he said again.
All I could focus on was the way his mouth moved as he said those three words. All I could think about was how electrifying his voice was as it moved over my body.
I licked my lips and moved that last bit of space it took to almost have our chests brushing together.
This is crazy.
This is so right.
It feels so good.
He reached out and cupped my waist with one hand and covered one side of my face with the other. The scent of him was intense, intoxicating. His short dark hair was disheveled, as if he’d been nervously running his fingers through it all night. But I knew I was the reason those strands were a wild mess.
I’d been the one running my hands through them as we kissed in the cab, as I clutched him to me so strongly I felt like we were one.
And the scent of him, good God, the scent of him, that mixture of cologne and masculinity, absolutely drove me insane with lust.
He held my cheek in a gentle, almost tentative hold with his other hand, as if he were afraid I’d bolt if he added too much pressure. But I had no intentions of doing that, not when I felt this light move through me when he touched me.