by Riley Jean
He walked over to the edge and finally met my eyes, staring down at me with longing and apprehension. “You sure?” he murmured.
I peeked up at him through my lashes, and pulled the covers back in invitation.
He studied me with his penetrating gaze, then reached up to tug the chain on the ceiling fan. After a metallic clink we were surrounded in darkness. I felt the bed dip and shift as he climbed in beside me. His hand found mine under the soft sheets, and our fingers interlocked, but that was the only part of us that touched.
My eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. Every personal item in his room scaled down to shadows and outlines. I could scarcely make out Vance laying beside me on his back, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
I got the impression he was holding himself back. But why, on our last night together?
He didn’t move when I slid closer to him, bringing our bodies into contact. When I laid my head on his chest, he sighed and wrapped both arms tightly around to hold me in place. Listening to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeat, everything else faded away.
“Why have you never brought me in here?”
His voice became gruff. “It’s my bedroom, Rosie. I’m only so strong.”
I squeezed him affectionately and smiled. “It makes you think of naughty things?”
“Plenty,” he said, “But that’s not what I worry about. It’s the other things that tempt me when you’re in here. Holding you after a long night. Listening to you ramble til you fall asleep. Waking up in the morning with you still in my arms. Making you breakfast in bed. Does that make sense?”
I nodded. It wasn’t the physical temptations that worried him—it was the emotional ones. As Vance had told me once before, he had boundaries too. This was his arbitrary line.
Was it selfish of me to be laying here with him, on the cusp of goodbye? Yes. Yes it was. But I didn’t have a shred of willpower or decency left.
I once believed that all would be okay so long as I didn’t let anybody in. Then Vance Holloway came along and shattered that to pieces. Having him within reach became a need, his touch an addiction. As much as I had wanted to push him away, to agree with his friends and set him free from myself, to do the right thing and leave this all behind… the thought of our impending separation was breaking me.
He had set out to befriend me, and succeeded. He endeavored to kiss me, and succeeded. He ventured to love me and break down my walls, and against my best efforts, he succeeded.
His embrace might’ve been enough to comfort me, had I never discovered the softness of his lips. As it was, I was more than well aware of the power those lips possessed. He held me with all his warmth and tenderness and still I needed more. I needed his touch to leave me totally and completely incinerated. I needed his unyielding kisses to devour me whole. I needed him to tell me with his mouth, his eyes, his hands, that I was beautiful, redeemable, and loved. That we were going to be okay, even if we couldn’t end up together.
I needed him tonight more than ever before, everything else be damned. Nothing short of letting this man crawl inside my skin was capable of alleviating this burning ache within me.
“I want you,” I whispered suggestively, and trailed my hand down his chest, over his stomach, and lower. The muscles in his abdominals clenched under my fingers as they made their teasingly slow descent. Yes. The way his body reacted to mine made me feel so sexy, so alive. This was exactly what I needed. After a day of anger and affliction and goodbye, I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to connect with somebody, to feel as close to another person as possible. And I wanted to do that with Vance.
Before my hand reached its southern destination, he grabbed my wrist to halt its movement. He sighed, resigned, as if he had already expected I might attempt this.
“Stop,” he said hoarsely. “You’re just upset.”
“I don’t want to stop,” I lilted, and pressed a sweet kiss just below his jaw, using everything in my power to convince him. Surely, deep down, he didn’t really want to stop either. He just needed to know I was sure. Vance was considerate like that.
His answering groan was full of conflict, yet he laid rigidly, rejecting my assault. “You’re not gonna make this easy for me, are you?” he said. “We can’t. I promised you.”
To kick it up a notch, I lightly grazed my lips up the length of his neck with just the barest trace of contact, whispering all the things I never said against his skin. I was rewarded with another long, deep groan.
I crawled on top of him. A hand came to the nape of my neck, tangling his fingers in my curls and lightly tugging at the roots, pulling me closer. Yes. He was at least responding to me, that gave me hope. He had wanted me for months, pursued me relentlessly, and seduced me on more than one occasion just for my kisses alone. Now here I was, practically gift-wrapping my body for him. Begging him to take it. He’d be crazy to refuse.
“Don’t you want me, Vance?” I breathed into his neck. To seal the deal, I leaned back and looked down at him with those big, vulnerable, doe eyes he loved so much. I used them to communicate everything I wanted… kiss me, take me, make me forget.
Tonight would be the night we shut everything out—no more rules or baggage or boundaries. There was only tonight, and it was only us. Only one thing would fill the emptiness inside me. This had to work. It had to.
But when he looked up at me, there was no molten desire swirling in his deep, green eyes. There was only softness and pity.
No. I didn’t want his pity. I wanted him to desire me. I straightened, sitting up on his hips without taking my eyes from his. My fingers made fast work of the buttons down the front of my shirt. My goal became less about needing to be close to him, and more about avoiding another rejection. He said he loved me. To the stars and back. He had to want me still… right?
Right?
Tears of frustration burned my eyes when his hands came up to stop mine. I gave up my undressing and hung my head, ashamed. I didn’t understand. What was I doing wrong? Why didn’t he want me anymore? Why was I losing him, too?
Tenderly, he gripped my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “It’s not that I don’t want you,” he said. “But not like this. You wanted to wait. You wanted this with your husband.”
I shook my head, eyes shining. “I don’t want to wait anymore!” I said, my voice wavering despite my conviction. “All my life I’ve been waiting. I’m tired of trying so hard not to feel anything. I’m tired of pretending to be brave. I’m tired of avoiding it all, waiting for everything to be perfect, then being afraid to take a chance when it finally feels right. But what if the stars never align, Vance? What if we never see each other again? What if you…” My chin trembled under the weight of my grief. My sentence hung incomplete.
Helpless, Vance just watched while the horrible thoughts from my past invaded. The last time I really loved a man, I lost him. I accepted that losing Vance had been inevitable from the beginning. Of all my life’s great regrets, I recognized the remorse I’d feel if I didn’t keep this piece of him for myself. So why should we hold back, when this might be our only shot?
“I’m not going anywhere, Rosie. Have a little faith.” The tips of his fingers pressed into the flesh of my thighs, assuring me that he was here, that he was real. But it wasn’t enough.
He couldn’t make that promise. How could he? We didn’t know what the future held. I was leaving tomorrow. Half the country would come between us. Eventually he’d fall in love with someone else. Maybe he’d finally grow to hate me. Or worse… I couldn’t bear the thought of what I’d do if something happened to Vance, too. It all seemed so fragile.
All at once, I cursed myself for pushing Vance away for so long, and cursed myself for giving in and having another relationship I feared to lose.
My throat ached with unshed tears. When I spoke again, I could only manage a whisper. “What if this is all we get?”
“This isn’t it for us,” he insisted. “I know it in here.” He took my h
and and placed it over his chest so I could feel his heart thumping the vitality through his veins. It was strong and steady, and I tried to hold on to it. I tried not to let this slip away. He looked up at me in supplication. “And you’d regret it tomorrow. How can we do that? How can I love you like that tonight, knowing it would devastate you tomorrow?”
I heard the reason in his voice, and how ultimately he was saying no because he was thinking of me. But all that registered was rejection.
This entire day had pushed me past my limit. Nobody wanted me. They were only too glad to see me go. And when it hit me just how unlovable I really was, I couldn’t handle that realization without some kind of escape.
“I can’t lose one more thing.”
“You’ll never lose me,” he affirmed. “I’m right here with you. As long as it takes, to the stars and back.”
But I was too far gone to process his words.
My body was throbbing with ache. With fear. With loneliness. With yearning. With guilt. A thousand emotions, overwhelming and growing out of control by the second. I had to block it out. I had to feel something—anything other than this hollow pit inside me. I was wound up so tightly, the smallest catalyst might shatter me into a thousand pieces.
My limbs started to weaken, unable to hold up even my own weight. Vance rubbed my arms and comforted me with soft sounds. But it was no good. I couldn’t get a grip. I was about to lose it.
“Please,” I choked back the emotion threatening to break out, in order to make my final plea. “I need you, Vance.”
His silence was enough. I couldn’t even open my eyes to see the refusal written on his face.
Vance was a giver by nature, and even though I had toyed with his heart and complicated his life, he had never denied me anything I asked. But I was taking advantage now. This was going too far. I was leaving and that would change everything for both of us, and it wasn’t fair of me. Desperation had reduced me to this, and I was ashamed even as I continued to beg.
While I was wallowing in my own self pity, Vance sat up and took hold of me. He waited until I looked him in the eye.
“Lay back,” he instructed in a manner that shot straight to my core.
He slowly rolled me backwards. I lowered myself obediently, and he followed until I was lying beneath him, my head at the foot of the bed.
“You need an escape, Scarlett Rose?” He said, holding himself above me on two bent arms. His hips fitted flush against mine. I just blinked up at him with subservient eyes. “Then that’s exactly what you’ll get.” And with a deliciously soft but determined expression, he leaned down and kissed me.
It wasn’t wild and fervid like I thought I needed, but it was just as passionate. Sweet. Somber. Perfect. I clutched him to me, absorbing a little bit of his strength. His warmth. His taste. Taking everything I could. Already I was starting to feel the tension inside me subside.
His lips worked over mine slowly. Languidly. Warm and familiar. One hand brushed aside my hair and caressed my cheek. The way he touched me, so tender and loving, began to ease some of the ache. He devoted all of his attention to soothing me, sparing no expense.
His hand migrated lower, grazing down my chest to where the top of my shirt still hung half-open. Never breaking our kiss, he slipped his hand inside and massaged me over my bra. Yes. I moaned, ever so softly, and arched up to him. More. His palm gave the perfect amount of pressure. His fingers, just the right about of ministrations. His thumb grazed teasingly over the swells. Yes. I moaned again, and he repeated.
After I was more than ready, he slowly peeled my bra down, took me in both hands, and lowered his mouth. Yes! The gentle sucking and flicks of his tongue soon had me writhing beneath him. First one breast, then the other, then back, before either had the chance to feel bereft.
With his innate ability to read my body, he knew exactly what it needed. The sheets were clenched in tight little fists as he worked me into a frenzy. Little by little, he was erasing the desperation I felt. I was becoming genuinely aroused.
He shifted to lay by my side. My breathing started to pick up when his hand moved lower again. Electric sparks shot straight through my entire body until every last nerve ending went up in flames. His skin felt so warm against mine, both soothing and stimulating to my system. The pad of his thumb circled my belly button and played with the metal piercing there.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he murmured, “Every time you make that sound I can’t help myself.”
In response, I could only moan again.
At last, his hand dipped below my waist. I was unbuttoned, unzipped and almost bare within two blinks. That’s when my heart really began to pound. This was un-trekked territory for Vance and me. I hadn’t been touched like this in so long, and I was equal parts excited and nervous.
Sensing my unease, he took his time. His lips returned to my mouth to calm me with his kiss. His fingertips started out with achingly slow strokes up and down each thigh, sensual and soothing, gliding along my smooth skin all while we kissed.
Just when I settled into the pattern, his fingers brushed lightly over the apex of my legs between a pass. Every touch after that left a scorching trail in its wake. All the way down each thigh, pulling apart each knee. The anticipation built every with every caress of my skin, and peaked each time I felt him through the thin cotton, there.
When it hit me this was really going to happen, the nervousness returned at full force. Was I really ready?
This was it. The last bit of innocence I possessed. The virtue I’d put on a pedestal my entire life. The reason I had endured years of teasing and shunning. I was about to throw away everything I’d observed, everything I knew was right for me, and abandon the dream to be different… all for one night of comfort.
Was this really what I wanted, or was it just reckless?
I couldn’t bring myself to regret that my first time would be with Vance. But suddenly it all seemed too rushed. Our relationship was complicated enough without adding sex into the mix. And he had wanted to hold off almost as much as me. Was he right, would this only hurt us both when I left? Could I live with myself for wounding him further?
I couldn’t think clearly with his hands on me. Now would be a great time to shut off my brain altogether. But even my body tightened, knowing it wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure we could go through with this. Except how could I back out after the way I begged him?
Sensing my apprehension, he broke our kiss to search my face. His eyes were so understanding and patient, I was reminded of something Gwen said the night they all found out—that Vance looked at me like the wanted to give me the moon. He was giving me that very same look again. His fingers lightly touched the cotton right over my core, sending little electric shivers through my system.
“Just this,” he answered my unspoken question. My eyes were trapped in his gaze. “We’re going to do this my way. Just this tonight, okay?”
Oh. Okay. Just his hand. I’d done that before. I nodded, relaxing a little.
He leaned down to kiss me again. Slowly and sweetly. The movement of his mouth matched the pace of his fingertips, alternating between light circles and long, slow strokes.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his thick hair and tugging whenever the feeling peaked. Each time his fingers rubbed an extra-sensitive spot, my hips raised, seeking the source of pleasure. Oh, yes. Hips, lips, hands, fingers. I was overcome in the symphony of sensations. He had my whole body dancing to the sensual rhythm that he set.
He seemed so controlled and perfectly paced. I kept wondering if he was going to dip underneath the final layer and switch to the fast and clumsy petting I’d experienced in the past. And don’t get me wrong, that had felt good, too. But it was nothing like this. If he only focused on these little circles for another year or two, I’d be in paradise.
It put all my previous experience to shame. Maybe it was just because I was with Vance, and he knew how to work my body because
he was already attuned to my mind. Our connection made it so much more intimate and pleasurable than anything I’d ever experienced before.
Oh, yes! My inhales and exhales came in rapid succession. A pulling sensation drew everything directly into my center. I was melting into a little puddle, and he hadn’t even made direct contact.
Something inside me started to quicken, a heat building from deep within and slowly expanding in all directions. I had to break away from his perfect mouth and throw my head back against the end of the bed while I gasped for air in harsh pants. Holy wow, I had never been this turned on in my life.
Vance began covering my neck with warm, wet kisses while his deft fingers increased their pressure and speed where I needed it most. Talk about sensory overload.
Oh, yes!!! A moan flew directly into his ear. I never even made the decision to moan—my body was just releasing them on its own now. In response Vance’s breath accelerated on my neck. We breathed into each other. Just the heat of it curled my toes. Turning me on was turning him on, and vice versa.
The tips of my fingers were tingling with a fuzzy numbness. My limbs were starting to quake. What was happening to me? Whatever it was, it was nuclear.
“Eyes open, Scarlett.”
I opened my eyes and met his gaze. So handsome. So loving. So loyal. How could I have known him this long without realizing how absolutely magnificent he was? The closeness of our relationship far surpassed anything I’d ever felt before. This was me… falling for the best friend I’d ever known.
In the scariest time of my life, in my most unlovable moments, he had been here. He had been real. He had been the perfect love. I just never understood its true meaning until this moment.
“I can’t change the stars for you; all I can do is love you. And I think that will be enough. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You just need to let me in.”
In that moment, everything was clear.
This thing between us was more than just physical. It had been for a long time. I’d fooled myself into thinking we could compartmentalize our relationship into my friend and my lover. But they weren’t separate. They were one and the same.
