I do, stretching around my fingers.
“Are you imagining it’s me?”
I feel the roughness of his voice run over me, and the tingling in my spine is so intense that I’m nearly undone.
“Are you?” His jaw is tight and his eyes are desperate.
“Yes.” Of course I’m imagining it’s him. Of course.
“How do I feel?” He strokes himself again, running his hand up over the tip and then pulling back down.
“You feel like two stars coming together. You feel like heaven.”
He holds my gaze. “That’s what I thought.”
Then he’s stroking himself harder, faster, and I quicken my pace too. Imagining his weight on top of me, his woodsy scent surrounding me, his length thrusting deeper and deeper.
And then I’m coming, coming, coming. I cry out, stay captured by his gaze, because it’s the only way, the only place we’re connected.
“Jamie.” Gavin grips himself tighter, faster, and then he’s coming too.
And I’m pulsing around my fingers, and crying out, keeping ahold of his gaze, until I realize that’s not the only place we’re connected, because I can feel him in my heart, right in the center of my soul.
When the sparks fade, and I take my hands from myself, Gavin and I stare at each other, breathing heavily, taking in the enormity of what just happened.
Our bodies didn’t touch, but our souls did.
Gavin steps forward, drags a finger over my jaw. He looks down at me, an open, awe-filled expression on his face. “My Jamie. Did you know? I really, really love you.”
With that, all the happy, dizzy, floating feelings fall like glass whacked off a punty and shatter on the concrete floor. I reach up and put my fingers over his.
This moment was truth. I won’t stop telling the truth now.
So even though it breaks my heart to say it, I whisper, “I really, really love you too.”