The Space In Between

by Melyssa Winchester

  “Okay…Since my first question didn’t work, I’m gonna try a different approach. What would you say to a study break?”

  This question, unlike the one before it seems to hit the spot as she slides her books off her lap, crawling across the bed until she’s wrapping herself up in my arms with her back against my chest and turning her body just enough to give me access to those pretty pouty lips of hers that I enjoy so much.

  “This answer your question?”

  “Perfectly.”

  Brushing her nose, I continue moving until our lips are touching, and just like every other time it happens, it provides the perfect distraction. So long math. So long Mr. Winters. The only overload I’m experiencing now is a sensory one. Her soft floral scent, mixed with the fruity taste of her lip gloss, and the feel of her fingers on my skin when she finally brings her arm up and around my neck, pulling me deeper under her spell.

  Consumed by the soft moan that escapes as her lips part, I taste them with my tongue, before slipping past them, actively searching and finding her tongue, each movement deliberate as they finally come together and as always, begin their dance.

  Bringing my arm around her back, I shift my body, picking her up gently and laying her back on the bed as I continue to taste her, resting myself above her and welcoming the warmth of her hands again as they come around my back and slide underneath my shirt, my need to feel her touch on my skin as strong as her own.

  Breaking her lips from mine and leaning back just far enough to be able to take in the heated color of her cheeks and her heavy lidded eyes filled with desire, I bring myself down on top of her, her chest brushing against mine as I bring my lips to her neck and she sighs contentedly.

  “Mmmm…Christian.”

  We’ve been like this before, it’s not like this is the first time things have ever gotten heated between us, and it’s definitely not the first time she’s moaned, but the way she’s doing it now, my name falling softly, it drives my need for more through the roof.

  Every time we’re together, we starting kissing and it’s not long before that one kiss turns into a dozen more, soft to start and deep and passionate the longer it goes, our hands slipping underneath our layers of clothes until it’s skin to skin and our bodies with the friction between us threatening to set us both on fire.

  We always stop though. Her stopping because she wants her first time to mean more than just a study or music break screw, and me wanting to respect what she wants and myself at the same time. With the way I feel about her, I have no plans on going anywhere, so I can wait forever if that’s what she needs.

  When we’re both finally ready to share our first time together, it’s going to be perfect, but I’d be lying if I said that the sheen of sweat that’s lifting on her body, along with the seductive and enticing smile on her lips and how into it she is by the fight she’s putting up not to lose herself completely, isn’t driving me to take it all the way.

  I want to be with her. Give myself to her the way she’s already done so completely with me.

  “It’s getting harder to stop.” I admit before moving my lips from their place on her neck, further down her chest, leaving every area I pass with the imprint of my lips on it as I continue to kiss and she arches her body even more into mine.

  “Try being the one that always has to say no.” she admits, her voice reflecting the intensity of the moment as it’s almost breathless.

  “Then don’t say no.”

  Realizing my screw up the second her body freezes, I feel like hitting myself. That definitely didn’t come out the way I wanted it to.

  “I just meant, you should let me be the one to do it.”

  Proving my words in actions, I pull away and lift myself off her completely, not stopping until I’m on my knees a few inches away, my eyes never once leaving hers. Needing to know that she sees that I mean what I’m saying.

  I don’t know what it is about me, but I can’t stand the thought of Emery being disappointed in me. I always want to do right by her. I’m pretty sure it’s all just a lot of leftover stuff from when my mom was around, but it doesn’t matter. I just know that her trusting in me to do the right thing by her means everything.

  “Okay,” she says once she adjusts her shirt and starts sitting back up on the bed. “Well, with as fast as you moved away, I’m pretty sure you just did.”

  “I just didn’t want you to think—”

  “It’s okay, Christian. I know what that was and it’s cool. You were right.”

  “Say that again? I’m not quite sure I heard you right.”

  “Nice try, smartass. You know what I said, so even though it would feed that big enough ego of yours, I’m not doing it.”

  “Fine, but can you at least tell me what I was right about?”

  “It getting harder to stop. You’re right, and you’re not the only one feeling it. I know that I’m the reason we’re moving so slowly, my nerves or whatever, but even with that still there, it feels good. I feel safe with you. I know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt me.”

  “That’s because I wouldn’t. Ever. I’d hurt myself a million times over before doing one thing to cause you pain.”

  Watching as her face flushes, she lifts her eyes to meet mine, a stare that seems to completely freeze time for minutes before she begins moving toward me, not stopping until her lips are pressed to mine again, a smile tugging at her face as she pulls away and reaches for her books.

  Placing them across her lap and flipping through the pages of the book that she’s writing her report on, she studies it for a few seconds before looking up again, surprised to see that I’m still watching her.

  “I think I’m ready.”

  Okay, now I really do need her to repeat herself. I can’t possibly have heard that right. No freaking way. Especially since it’s the words I’ve been wanting to hear in my head, but was starting to get the feeling might never come.

  Playing dumb, hoping that this time she sees I’m not joking and helps me out, I ask her to repeat herself in the only way I can.

  “Ready for what?”

  “To stop saying no.”

  “Umm—are you sure?”

  “I’m not saying that I want to strip down and do it right now, but soon. I’m ready. I want to be with you, Christian.”

  Whoa.

  “You know for someone who a few minutes ago had me on my back, kissing me like he needed it to breathe, you’re pretty quiet.”

  Snap out of it, Christian. You might not know what the right words are, but you’ve gotta say something before she starts worrying and takes it back.

  Whenever Emery gets nervous about something, her fingers seem to find her mouth and she’s nibbling on her nails. The first few times she did it, I’d noticed, but never bothered bringing it up because we all have things we do that are like that, but when it happened again a few weeks ago I’d brought it up and she explained.

  She also hasn’t done it since.

  Until now.

  “Whenever you’re ready and it’s right, I’m ready too.”

  And just like that her fingers slide down into her lap and her face is lit up in a smile again.

  Moment saved.

  Thank God.

  “Give me your math.” She demands and reaching over and grabbing the book from the end of the bed, I place it out in front of me as she maneuvers her way back into my arms again.

  “Are you sure you wanna help me with this? I know you’ve got that report to do.”

  “I’ll get it done. Now hand it over, Mikey.”

  Lifting the book up for her to take, she grabs it and we settle into a comfortable study rhythm again, silence dominating as I take what she’s showing me and put it into practice in my notebook, the answers I couldn’t get earlier finally coming to life on the page.

  Emery coming to my rescue and saving my ass, it’s another sign, I know it.

  No matter where I go and what I find myself in, she’s always g
oing to be the one thing that brings me back and saves me.

  She can claim I’m her star all she wants, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s wrong. The only star I see is the one curled up comfortably in my lap right now. The one that’s been guiding me since that very first day in September.

  Emery’s the real star and the best part?

  She’s all mine.

  Emery

  I’m not getting a damn thing done and the reason I can’t, when I seemed to have no problem when I was helping Christian with his math, is my own doing.

  What the hell was that even about?

  One second we were kissing and touching each other, about to take it further and then all of a sudden, he’s talking, I’m pretty much agreeing and then he’s on the other side of the bed away from me.

  That’s not even the worst of it though. That came when I admitted I’m ready and I wanted him to be my first.

  It doesn’t matter where. My house, his, our spot, hell, even the janitor’s closet at school if that’s where it seems best to do it. I don’t care. And up until I blurted it out, it didn’t even matter when. All I knew was that I was ready for it.

  All of that, even me blurting it out, is fine, but it’s not being able to think about much else since that’s now preventing me from writing the report I need for English class. The one that will make or break my final grade and if ignored completely will make it impossible for me to graduate. Also the one that I need to get my head out of the clouds and finish.

  “You’re doing it again. That’s the second time in the last twenty minutes.”

  “What?” I ask lifting my head up from the book it’s been stuck in.

  “Frowning. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

  Well, cutie, it’s like this. I can’t seem to stop thinking about having sex with you.

  Yeah, that’s definitely not happening. I’ve said more than enough on the topic for one night considering we’re not going to be doing it.

  “I can’t focus.”

  “You were fine earlier. What happened?”

  “The truth?”

  “Always.”

  “You happened. I’m distracted.”

  Why me admitting that makes him grin is beyond me, but I’m not going to tell him to stop. It’s a sexy grin.

  “Of course you’d like that answer.”

  “I’m a guy and I like the idea of distracting you. Sue me.”

  “Don’t tempt me. I took Law last year. I could totally do it.”

  Throwing his legs over the side of my bed and standing, he makes his way over to the desk and leans down, not at all helping me out in the distraction department. I was already acting drunk around him when we were on the bed together; having him this close and the smell of his cologne wafting up into my nose, it’s too much.

  “Not helping, Mikey.”

  “Fine, I’ll go back to the bed if that’s what you want, but then you won’t get to hear my brilliant solution to your little distraction problem.”

  Spinning around in the chair and reaching out, bringing him to a stop before he can step out of my grasp and do as he threatened, I slip my fingers through his and pull him back over.

  “Lay your idea on me. I’m up for anything.”

  “Ignoring the naughty way that sounds, I was thinking that I’d just head out early. Give you a chance to get what you need done and maybe spend a little time with my dad before I call my girlfriend to say goodnight.”

  I’ve got to hand it to him. It’s the perfect solution. I’d get some time alone, even though I’m sure his scent is going to linger long after he leaves, and I might be able to pull out on a win on this report after all.

  “Is it wrong that I want kiss you and slap you at the same time?”

  He laughs while throwing one hell of a confused look my way. “Why do you want to slap me?”

  “Because you leaving would suck.” I admit with a depressed sigh, and smiling down at me, the action acting like a salve for the emotional scar of his leaving, I’m warmed again.

  I really love that smile.

  “But getting a failing mark in English would suck worse.”

  “When did you get so smart?”

  “The day you agreed to date me.”

  Unable to stop my own grin from appearing, I ready myself as he moves in close, brushing his lips against mine ever so softly.

  “Do you promise you’ll call me before you go to sleep?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “Yes, but if you’re hanging with your dad, you might forget.”

  “Somehow, with the boring shit that we do when we’re together, I doubt that’s going to happen, but if it makes you feel better, I promise, pinky swear and sign my name in blood that I’ll call you before I go to sleep.”

  Normally, when I’m feeling this over the edge girly, it turns my stomach, but flushing what seems like my natural shade of red these days, I can’t help the squeal that escapes inside me at his words.

  Okay, yeah, there it is.

  Squealing like a fan girl is where I draw the line.

  “In that case, you can take your leave now.”

  Giggling despite myself, I lean in and kiss him one more time, letting my lips linger just a little longer and pouting when he’s the one that breaks the spell and pulls away.

  “Put the pout away, Carmichael. You’ve got work to do.”

  Bopping my nose with his finger he turns and heads to the door, sliding all the way through before slipping his head back in and offering up another lopsided grin.

  “Don’t miss me too much.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Christian

  What the hell is this?

  Why is Emery’s mom here?

  Better yet, what the hell is she doing with her arms around my dad and her lips…oh shit. I don’t want to think about where her lips are right now. It’s enough that he’s holding her that close.

  Intimately. Like they know each other.

  Like me and Emery.

  I’m gonna be fucking sick.

  Turning away from the scene playing out in front of me, looking for the waste basket near the front door and finding it gone, there’s movement in the kitchen and I know I’ve given myself away.

  Maybe if I book it past the kitchen and move as quickly as I can into my room, they’ll just think they imagined the noise.

  Turning toward my bedroom, locking my gaze on my half open door and calculating how fast I’ll need to be to get there before one or both of them steps out and catches me, I step out, prepared to jump if that’s what it takes to get away from this, landing about three or four steps away from the sanctuary of my room before my dad’s voice stills me.

  “Chris! You’re home early. I thought you were going to be hanging out with your girl tonight.”

  My girl.

  Doesn’t he mean the daughter of the woman he’s sucking face with in our kitchen?

  Just thinking about it like that has my stomach rolling over.

  “She had to study,” I somehow manage to get out, still too afraid to turn around and face him. Not wanting to see if Rose Carmichael has joined him in the small hallway of our apartment. “Figured I’d come home early.”

  I’d rather just pretend I didn’t see anything at all. That would be fantastic.

  Unfortunately, hearing my dad’s feet across the floor and feeling his arm on my shoulder, fantastic is something that’s just not in my future tonight. Maybe not ever with what I just walked in on.

  “I didn’t exactly want it to happen like this, but if you’re up for it, there’s someone I’d like you meet.”

  “We’ve met.”

  I really hate to burst my old man’s bubble, but I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that I don’t know exactly who’s in the kitchen with him. That I actually sat down and had dinner with her a few days ago, never for a second believing that she was the woman my dad was seeing.

  “You haven’t even met her yet. How�
��s that possible?”

  “Rose Carmichael. Daughter is Emery, right?” When I finally turn and lock eyes with him and he’s nodding his head affirmatively, I scowl.

  Definitely not in the mood for this.

  I need to get the fuck away from this and be alone.

  “Hello again, Christian.”

  Definitely not dreaming it, and looking from my dad over to the kitchen and seeing her standing there, not even a bit of surprise on her face, proving she’s figured out exactly who I am, my insides twist even more.

  “Ms. Carmichael.” I choke out, swallowing down the bile that’s now taken on a mind of its own and is not taking no for an answer.

  I really need to get away from this.

  “Emery…As in the girl you’ve been spending all of your spare time with? The one you’re dating?”

  I want to feel bad for my dad, but I can’t. It’s pretty obvious that while we know each other, he’s clueless. The way his eyes seem to flick back and forth between me and her—his girlfriend—gives it away, though knowing him the way I do, I wouldn’t need the obvious reaction.

  “Yeah, Dad. That one. You’re dating my girlfriend’s mom.”

  I’m so over this. Let them take this back into the kitchen and talk about it themselves. I can’t be a part of it. I was already giving myself a hard enough time for leaving Emery’s early, but now, I’m really wishing I’d been the selfish horny guy and stayed because this is so much worse.

  I could have handled being oblivious a little longer.

  Hearing him call out but ignoring it, not even caring how pissed it’s gonna make him, I turn and head into my room, shutting and barricading the door behind me. Pacing back and forth as I hear the footsteps outside and the rough knock that follows, I throw myself into the desk chair, rolling it across until I feel the mahogany of the desk under my hands and balling my fist up, letting the anger flood through me, I slam it down hard, flinching the moment it makes contact and breathing through the sting of the impact.

  Son of a bitch! This is not happening to me right now.

  I finally get this girl to admit she likes me, spending months getting as close as two people can get, having her open up and become mine so completely and with one innocent drive home early, everything’s changed.