mess.
"Serena." Alex breathed my name against my neck as my fingers roamed over his broad shoulders. I could see the entirety of his tattoos, the dark swirls extending from mid bicep, up and over his shoulders, and down to his shoulder blades. I couldn't appreciate them fully, though, because the feel of his hands on my breasts had blurred my vision.
Slowly, slowly, one of his hands fell from my breast. He slid it down, over the soft curve of my stomach, and between my legs.
I gasped. I'd had hands here before—too many hands—but none of them had ever elicited so much heat. Still, I froze, unsure of what to do.
"Is this okay?" As I looked at him, I saw that those deep blue eyes were serious and watchful. He was paying attention to what I liked, what I didn't.
He wasn't going to go further than I wanted to.
I nodded, then pressed my cheek against the curve of his shoulder. It was damp, and I inhaled the scent of his skin.
Slowly, so slowly, he rubbed his fingers between my legs, over the seam of my blue jeans. I bit back a moan. It felt so good.
Too good.
I didn't want him to stop.
I widened my stance to give him better access. The movements of his fingers were slow and sure, and I felt tension coiling up in my belly.
I traced a finger over the tattoos on his biceps as he stroked me. I frowned through the heat when I felt a pucker marring the otherwise tight satin of his skin.
There... and there. Those were... scars? Yes, small, round scars that pulled tightly against the surrounding skin. They'd been hidden so skillfully by the tattoos that they were impossible to see from anywhere but this close.
He had scars. So did I.
I wondered what secret he had, that he was hiding from me.
Unbidden, the suffocating sensation rose up and began to siphon away my air. I stiffened, tried to fight through it, to stay in the moment of pleasure, but the second I tensed Alex removed his hands from what they were doing, instead clasping me loosely around my upper arms.
He pulled back to look at me.
"What's wrong?" I shivered for a second, looking away.
"Serena." I couldn't help but look at him when he used that tone. His face was serious, but I knew he wanted an answer. "What happened?"
"Nothing." The lie rolled off my tongue as it had so many times before. Awkwardly I scooped my breasts back into my bra, then tugged my sweater down. I was mortified, and with the mortification came the dark shame that had dogged me for years.
"All right." His voice had cooled, and I couldn't help but cringe at the change in his demeanor.
"Alex..." The look on his face was blank, and sent a pang through me.
"I can't make you trust me." He was... could he be hurt? I was puzzled by the notion, by the idea that I had enough power to do that.
"I do trust you." I whispered, looking down at my fingers.
"You trust me with your body." His voice was matter of fact. "But not with anything else. And that's fine. We haven't known each other very long."
But it wasn't fine, and I could hear it in his voice. We may not have known each other very long, but there was a connection that linked the two of us tightly, one that I had just railed against with my reluctance to share.
"I'm sorry." The last thing I expected was for Alex to chuckle. Bewildered, I looked at him, and found him leaning back, both frustration and bafflement evident on his features.
"You're complicated." He was matter of fact, not hurtful, but I flinched regardless. Slightly irritated at this comment from the guy who had just had his hands between my legs, I stood, shaking the loose strands of my ponytail into my face.
"You have no idea." I stood still for a long moment, unsure."I should go." I had been stupid to pretend I could do something as normal as this. My throat felt thick, but I bit my tongue to prevent tears. No. No way.
I was stronger than that.
"Serena." I peeked through my golden curtain to find Alex running his fingers through his hair, the thick strands sticking
"Serena." Alex breathed my name against my neck as my fingers roamed over his broad shoulders. I could see the entirety of his tattoos, the dark swirls extending from mid bicep, up and over his shoulders, and down to his shoulder blades. I couldn't appreciate them fully, though, because the feel of his hands on my breasts had blurred my vision.
Slowly, slowly, one of his hands fell from my breast. He slid it down, over the soft curve of my stomach, and between my legs.
I gasped. I'd had hands here before—too many hands—but none of them had ever elicited so much heat. Still, I froze, unsure of what to do.
"Is this okay?" As I looked at him, I saw that those deep blue eyes were serious and watchful. He was paying attention to what I liked, what I didn't.
He wasn't going to go further than I wanted to.
I nodded, then pressed my cheek against the curve of his shoulder. It was damp, and I inhaled the scent of his skin.
Slowly, so slowly, he rubbed his fingers between my legs, over the seam of my blue jeans. I bit back a moan. It felt so good.
Too good.
I didn't want him to stop.
I widened my stance to give him better access. The movements of his fingers were slow and sure, and I felt tension coiling up in my belly.
I traced a finger over the tattoos on his biceps as he stroked me. I frowned through the heat when I felt a pucker marring the otherwise tight satin of his skin.
There... and there. Those were... scars? Yes, small, round scars that pulled tightly against the surrounding skin. They'd been hidden so skillfully by the tattoos that they were impossible to see from anywhere but this close.
He had scars. So did I.
I wondered what secret he had, that he was hiding from me.
Unbidden, the suffocating sensation rose up and began to siphon away my air. I stiffened, tried to fight through it, to stay in the moment of pleasure, but the second I tensed Alex removed his hands from what they were doing, instead clasping me loosely around my upper arms.
He pulled back to look at me.
"What's wrong?" I shivered for a second, looking away.
"Serena." I couldn't help but look at him when he used that tone. His face was serious, but I knew he wanted an answer. "What happened?"
"Nothing." The lie rolled off my tongue as it had so many times before. Awkwardly I scooped my breasts back into my bra, then tugged my sweater down. I was mortified, and with the mortification came the dark shame that had dogged me for years.
"All right." His voice had cooled, and I couldn't help but cringe at the change in his demeanor.
"Alex..." The look on his face was blank, and sent a pang through me.
"I can't make you trust me." He was... could he be hurt? I was puzzled by the notion, by the idea that I had enough power to do that.
"I do trust you." I whispered, looking down at my fingers.
"You trust me with your body." His voice was matter of fact. "But not with anything else. And that's fine. We haven't known each other very long."
But it wasn't fine, and I could hear it in his voice. We may not have known each other very long, but there was a connection that linked the two of us tightly, one that I had just railed against with my reluctance to share.
"I'm sorry." The last thing I expected was for Alex to chuckle. Bewildered, I looked at him, and found him leaning back, both frustration and bafflement evident on his features.
"You're complicated." He was matter of fact, not hurtful, but I flinched regardless. Slightly irritated at this comment from the guy who had just had his hands between my legs, I stood, shaking the loose strands of my ponytail into my face.
"You have no idea." I stood still for a long moment, unsure."I should go." I had been stupid to pretend I could do something as normal as this. My throat felt thick, but I bit my tongue to prevent tears. No. No way.
I was stronger than that.
"Serena." I peeked through my golden curtain to find Alex running his fingers through his hair, the thick strands sticking
Similar Books
The 30-Minute Vegan's Taste of the East: 150 Asian-Inspired Recipes--from Soba Noodles to Summer Rolls
Mark Reinfeld, Jennifer Murray
