by Ellie Marney
I make a blissed-out sigh.
‘Is this okay?’ Zep asks, his voice quiet.
‘It feels nice,’ I say dreamily.
He smiles behind his hair. ‘So am I doing it right?’
‘I don’t know what you’re doing,’ I admit, ‘but it’s working.’
He looks directly at me then, as if he’s absorbing every change in my expression. His eyes track my breathing, my open lips. When he strokes along each of my fingers, heat climbs up my neck. He digs his thumbs into the centre of my palm, and I let out a little breathy noise.
It’s impossible to disguise the effect his touch is having on me. I’m displaying all the physical signs of being aroused. I am aroused. Zep is touching me, and I can’t help it, this is my reaction. My core temperature is increasing; I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. And I imagine my pupils are dilated.
But when I glance at him, embarrassed, I notice something else.
His pupils are dilated.
My pulse rate triples. I should stop this, before I give too much away.
My voice comes out unsteady. ‘Zep–’
‘Ren,’ he whispers, moving one hand to cup my cheek. His other hand draws on my wrist.
‘What are we–’ I start.
But I don’t get to finish, because he pulls me forward and kisses me. And all of my higher brain functions suddenly short out.
Sensation rushes in to take their place. Oh oh oh–warm soft lips, moulding against mine, and the scent of him everywhere, spiralling inside me, spreading heat through all my limbs…
After a first deep, crushing kiss and an intoxicating taste, Zep pulls back and brushes his lips gently across mine, over and over. It’s so sweet and velvety, I almost can’t stand it. I make a little whimpering noise and he groans, reaches up with his other hand to cradle my head as his lips press in rhythm, soft-firm-soft.
We break apart. I have no muscle control at all, so it’s a complete surprise to me to discover myself stretched over him. The cards are jumbled beneath us somewhere.
‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he says. His voice is ragged. He is still cupping my jaw. ‘Are you okay with this?’
‘Yes. Yes.’ I reply in short words, because I’m so breathless.
His eyes go languidly black. ‘Let’s do it again.’
He pulls me in. I have not really been kissed before. I’ve been so well-behaved my whole life, intrigued but not participating. So I don’t know what a good kiss is like. But this kiss feels really good.
His hands control the angles. As my mouth opens a little more with each brush of his lips, he goes deeper. His tongue sweeps mine gently at first, until I respond, my own tongue making tentative touches and dips. Then his lips open me up, and he’s plunging into me, stronger and headier each time, and my whole body feels like it’s expanding outwards. My fingers fumble against his chest, fist in the fabric of his shirt.
We come apart too soon for my liking.
‘You haven’t done this much before, have you?’ His eyes are dazed, his words gravelly.
‘That is correct,’ I croak.
‘We’ll go slow,’ he says, looking like he doesn’t want to go slow at all.
He cups my nape and kisses the corner of my mouth, the other corner, touching the tip of his tongue to the fullness of my bottom lip, nibbling along the seam. My brain is detaching from my body, floating. It’s as if I’m under some kind of spell, where the only thing that matters is that these kisses should keep going, on and on, into infinity.
We need to breathe again, at some point.
‘It’s hard to go slow. You taste like wine.’ He is looking at me in wonder. ‘Wait, we’re falling off the bed.’
He releases me so he can push himself higher on the pillow. He skims his hands down the sides of my body, cups under my bottom and pulls me up so my knees are either side of his hips. We are still nose to nose, breathing hard, and we kiss again.
Zep’s mouth is wet and furiously hot. He doesn’t need to teach me this time, my tongue is duelling as fervently as his. His hands move, stroke up and down my back, clutch at my waist, my hips. We are both making soft, urgent noises. His scent is all around me. I plunge my fingers into his hair, tug hard.
This time, when we break apart, he pauses, clears his throat. ‘Whoah…Okay.’
‘Just a little more,’ I whisper, pressing tiny kisses from his mouth to his jaw. I curl my arms around his neck and roll my hips, adjusting my position.
His gasp is strained. ‘Dios, don’t do that.’
Every part of me is aware of the feel of him, the way his body is thrumming with tension as we kiss. Now I notice all the places we are connected. My hands in his hair…his hands on my bottom…my breasts brushing against his chest…our hips, perfectly aligned…
‘Oh god.’ Zep’s face is flushed. ‘You’re getting too good at this too fast.’
‘I’m a quick study.’ My exhale trembles out.
‘I want…I need to…’ He looks at me, his eyes glittering. ‘Can I kiss you on the neck?’
I make a noise which could pass for Yes, or could just be a squeak. I don’t know if you can faint from being excessively aroused. It’s possible I will faint.
He brushes my right arm off his shoulder, and splays his hand on my collarbone. I said I don’t do rag-doll acts; under Zep’s hands, I am a rag-doll, boneless and wanting.
With my head tilted like this, the side of my neck is entirely exposed. He strokes back my hair and looks into my eyes for a moment–just long enough for me to see how blown his pupils are, how excited this makes him–then he eases forward and sinks his lips onto me.
I jerk in his lap, as if I’ve been electrocuted. Zep groans, long and low, and I feel the vibrations on my skin. He kisses his way up my neck, higher and higher, his breathing becoming more and more uncontrolled. My consciousness is spinning out, in freefall. When he reaches a spot just below my ear, he opens his mouth and uses his tongue, and I have to muffle the noises I’m making with my hand.
He nips my neck, my earlobe, along my jaw, finally returns to my mouth. We kiss hard then, and deeply, and our tongues thrust and parry. Our arms are tight around each other.
I undulate in his lap, and he moans, breaks us apart. ‘Madre de Dios, we need to… We need to stop.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ His cheeks are blasted with colour. ‘I don’t want to, but…holy shit. My intentions started out pure, but they’re getting carnal pretty fast.’
‘Then kiss me again,’ I demand. I feel drunk. I’ve never been drunk, but this is what I imagine it feels like.
‘Fuck. I’m really on fire right now.’ He laughs, scrubs his hands against his face. His expression is so open and relaxed–I’ve never seen him so relaxed before. He looks different. ‘But this is all new for you. So that would probably be a bad idea.’
‘It would be a good idea. A great idea.’ I lean forward and nibble the lobe of his ear. Mm, soft.
He hisses out a breathless stream of Spanish, his eyelids fluttering shut. Then he pushes me back, all the way back until I’m lying on the bed and he is sprawled over me. I like this position, too. His muscles are tight, and the weight of his body is delicious.
I grin. ‘Wahh, you feel good on me.’
‘Jesucristo.’ He gulps hard, narrows his eyes. ‘Okay, you asked for it. Exam. Court case. Exam.’
‘Noooo.’
‘I have other mood-killing words. Goddammit, Ren, you are so damn beautiful. But you really have to study.’
I touch his face gently. ‘I don’t want you to go. But if you stay, I’ll only want to kiss you instead of studying.’
‘I’ll make you a deal. If you study now, I’ll kiss you more tomorrow.’ He nuzzles his cheek against my palm. ‘And I’ll have had more than two hours sleep. I’ll have more self-
control.’
I wrap my legs around his waist. ‘You don’t need more self-control. I want to see you with less.’
His bracketing arms tense, and his eyes go dark and glazed. For a few moments, he rocks his hips against me in long, smooth, torturous strokes, and my whole body lights up like fireworks. He drops his lips to my throat, down my breastbone, over my shirt to my stomach…then he slides away, out of my grasp and off the bed.
‘Okay.’ He looks thoroughly dishevelled. I like seeing him this way. He walks to the door of my room blindly. ‘Okay. I’m going.’
‘I’ll study,’ I say throatily. I’m still sprawled on the bed, rolled on my side. ‘I promise I’ll study.’
‘You will. And I’ll sleep. I think.’ His hand is on the doorknob before he remembers he’s in the women’s dorm. ‘Damn.’
He backtracks for the window, slings one leg over the ledge. Looks back. I thought he was handsome before, but now, with his colour high, it’s as if his face has come alive.
‘Study hard, Ren. Because for every answer you get correct, I’ll kiss you.’ He grins and slides away.
And I drag myself off the bed and go to my desk, because that is the best incentive I’ve ever heard.
There are forty-five questions on this exam.
I am planning to get a lot of kisses out of Zep Deal.
Eight
My exam is at nine a.m. on Thursday morning, and it is invigilated by an independent supervisor. I have to catch the bus into the city, find the exam location and check in. I manage to do this successfully. I’m getting much better at this navigation business.
My head is so stuffed with facts it feels ready to burst. When I turn my paper over and pick up my pencil, I’m ready. I thought I would find the memory of kissing Zep distracting, but actually the opposite is true: somehow it makes my concentration purer, more focused.
Two and a half hours later, I put my pencil down.
‘You have another half hour, if you need it,’ the supervisor points out.
‘I don’t need it,’ I say.
On the way home in the bus, my mind feels very light and clear, even though it’s humming over a million little things: the way Zep looks when he’s been kissed, the smell of him, the sleek texture of his skin. I want to smooth my hands up under his T-shirt, lift it right over his head, watch his hair sift down and touch my lips to his chest…
I squeeze my bag in my lap to disguise my shiver. All the things I want to do to him flock into my head, spin inside my body. They’re competing with the other things I’m contemplating–so many little puzzle pieces, all whirling and melding and meshing together into a complex but highly achievable pattern.
I should be scared, thinking about this plan, but instead I’m filled with adrenalin. I feel unstoppable.
The bus drops me back near the lot at a quarter to one. From the Parade Road, I take a brief detour to Chester’s van, rap on the door, smile when he answers.
‘Ren, hi.’ He looks surprised. ‘What are you doing here? Are you unwell?’
‘I’m fine. But I need a new canister for my inhaler.’ I make sure to keep my eyes up, looking forward. ‘You have them, right? I know you had spares for Fleur and Lee–’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’ He opens the door wider. ‘Come in, I’ll just grab one for you.’
Everything is going off without a hitch.
Back in the women’s dorm, everything is quiet–almost all the residents are in training or preparation for the re-open performance on Saturday. I stash my bag, change out of my proper-looking exam clothes and into a tank and stretch jeans, yank my Cons back on without untying the laces.
I go wash my face in the bathroom, brush my teeth for the second time today, stick a barrette in my hair. As I’m walking back down the hallway towards the Beyoncé door, I catch sight of Gabriella coming out of her room.
‘My little chicken!’ Her face is alight with excitement. ‘Have you heard? Marco is interviewing new performers in the Spiegeltent–nine people have come for try-outs! I’m going up there with Fabian and Vi, to lurk around and see if any of the newbies are good looking.’
I grin. ‘That sounds like fun.’
‘Did you have your exam this morning? How did it go?’
‘Good, I think. Better than I expected.’
‘That’s wonderful, bebe! Congratulations. So do you want to come with? Or…’ She examines me, her eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t believe you’re going to come along. I think you have other plans in mind. Do these plans involve a certain black-haired boy who’s good with his hands?’
I laugh. ‘Have a nice time lurking, Gabi. I’ll catch up with you later.’
The outside air is warm, although there’s a fresh breeze. I’m almost shaking, I’m so excited. I pick my way along the alley behind the men’s dorm until I reach Zep’s window.
I lean up and tap on the glass. It takes two seconds for Zep to appear. He throws the curtain aside and pulls up the window.
‘You’re here.’ He looks even better than he did last night. His pallor is gone, and his eyes are bright and unshadowed–he looks rested. He looks happy. ‘You’re done?’
‘I’m done. Akhirnyaaa, I can’t believe I’m done. I can’t believe I got through that exam.’ I grip the window ledge, ready to haul myself up.
‘Wait.’ He grins. ‘Step back, I have a surprise.’
‘What surprise?’ When I comply, tilting my head, he ducks below the ledge. A moment later, he hoists up a tangled skein of rope and wood, unrolls it down my side of the wall. I clap my hands. ‘A rope ladder! Where did you get this?’
‘I made it.’ He looks very pleased with himself. He reaches out a hand to help me. ‘Come on, climb up.’
This is much easier than levering myself up to his window. Zep has oiled the window runner too, which allows me more of a gap to manoeuvre myself through. He holds my hands with his warm ones as I ease my legs inside, then I’m standing on his rug. He detaches from me to pull up the rope ladder and close the window.
‘That’s very clever,’ I say. ‘And much better. Although your window probably needs replacing. I think the wood has started to warp. You should–’
He cuts me off by tugging me around and kissing me. My hands bunch on his shoulders.
‘I don’t care about the window.’ He threads small, hot kisses on a chain from the corner of my mouth along my jaw to my ear. ‘Did you ace your exam?’
‘Yes. I mean, I think so. I–oh.’ I catch my breath when he trails his mouth down the side of my neck. His cheek is smooth on my skin and he smells of cloves, which I’m starting to realise is the scent of his shaving soap.
‘Tell me about the exam.’ He rubs his lips into the dip above my collarbone and pulls me closer, moulds his body to mine. One of his arms is snaked firmly around my waist. His other hand slides up my back to massage between my shoulder blades.
‘It’s very difficult to concentrate when you’re doing that,’ I whisper. My eyes are closed, all my other senses inhaling him.
‘Apply yourself.’ He nibbles his way back to my ear. I can feel him grinning. ‘What was the exam like?’
‘It was…three hours, but I–’ The tip of his tongue makes soft darts against the shell of my ear and I gasp. His hand has moved from my shoulder blades to gather in my hair. ‘I…ah…I completed all the questions…’
‘Go on.’ He teases the skin under my ear with his teeth.
‘I finished in two and a half hours,’ I say in a rush. ‘All the questions…there were only two that I had…I had trouble…’ He sucks my earlobe into the hot cave of his mouth. ‘Ohmaigod, Zep, I can’t think when you–’
He chuckles, covers my mouth with his. His hand supports the back of my head as he holds me in the position we both like. I can’t get enough of his lips, the slick touch of his tongue, the taste of him b
lazing so bright inside me it feels as if I’m self-combusting.
Zep’s arms tighten until my back starts to bow. I’m dizzy with want, all my limbs heavy and trembling. His body is the only thing keeping me upright.
When we stop to breathe, both of us panting, I’m completely boneless.
‘I don’t want to talk about the exam anymore.’ My voice is thick.
‘Me either. Although I’m sure you did well.’ His eyes are burning. He loosens his grip enough to run one hand up to my mouth and swipe the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip, wet now from his kisses.
‘I hope so.’ My smile is shaky. ‘But if you’re going to keep kissing me like this, I need to sit down.’
‘Sitting down is better.’ He blinks, regaining some sanity. ‘Damn, I had a plan for when you arrived, but I’ve gone completely off course. Here, sit.’ He guides me to his bed, which is more comfortable than the wooden chair. ‘Have you eaten? I got some coffee and food from the mess.’
There are three dukey boxes sitting on his dresser, plus two takeaway cups with lids, and a set of napkins and cutlery.
I squint at this array. ‘That’s a lot of food for two people.’
‘I got one of everything Judy had.’ He begins opening the cartons. ‘She made pasta carbonara, Caesar salad and chilli con carne. I don’t know, I have trouble deciding sometimes. I thought you might like options. So you have a choice between creamy, crunchy or spicy…’
And that’s when I know. This boy with the crow’s-wing hair, with a history of struggle and sadness, who bests me in cards and kisses me senseless and considers my needs, and asks me about my heart’s desires…
‘What is it?’ He’s turned to look at me, his lean body poised, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
Laughter bubbles up inside me. This is the boy for me. And I can hardly believe he is mine.
‘Nothing,’ I say, smiling. ‘It’s perfect. Everything is perfect.’
