by A. R. Breck
Now everyone knows.
It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway.
Luna is my world. She's my entire life and signifying her as my girlfriend was inevitable. I need her in my life just as much as I need air. My heart doesn't beat for me. It beats for her. It beats with her. Nothing else matters.
And tonight, I finally get some alone time with her.
We're going to watch the ball drop. Nothing serious. Lonnie brought some beer, but I'm not letting Nora or Luna drink. Luna hates the smell of beer anyway, so I won't be drinking either.
When I hear giggling downstairs, I know Nora and Luna just arrived from Luna's house.
Flynn looks at me as he cracks open a beer. "Let's get this party started."
"Well, this sucks ass," Clyde says, adjusting the antenna on the top of my box TV.
"It's because it's snowing outside. We always have bad reception when it's snowing," Nora grumbles from the couch. Her arms folded across her chest as she pouts.
"I don't want to miss the ball drop." Luna walks up to the TV and takes over, fiddling with the antenna.
I walk over to the window, watching the snow fall lightly over the ice-covered lake. It's light and fluffy, but sometimes even the lightest snow will mess with the reception on our TV.
"You got it!" Clyde shouts, and soon I hear the crackling voices shouting over the TV.
I turn around and see the fuzzy screen making out the massive shiny ball in New York City. There isn't much time left. It has to be close to midnight.
I look at Luna, and she's watching the TV with a rosiness in her cheeks and a smile pulling her lips up. Her straight white teeth shine as she talks with Nora. Her dress is long, all the way to her ankles. I know underneath her dress she's wearing long wool socks that slide up her calves, and her worn brown boots that go up to her knees.
She's a lot like her mom in the way she dresses. Long flowing dresses, long flowing hair. Luna has the hippy blood in her, but it looks good on her.
I want to kiss her.
I want to kiss her when the clock strikes twelve. I want to kiss her minutes before and I want to kiss her for minutes after, but I don't know how to walk up to her and lay my lips on hers without making a fool of myself.
"I brought something," she says, bending over to reach into her purse. She pulls out a small white paper, and I realize what it is instantly.
"You brought a joint?" I laugh. She's never shown interest in smoking weed or drinking for that matter.
She shrugs. "It's New Year's Eve."
Like that's enough of an answer.
"Anyone have a light?" she asks, swinging the paper around. The guys look at her, enthralled by the joint. We've smoked once or twice, but not enough for me to want to buy some for myself.
My mom wouldn't be too happy either.
"We should go out on the deck," Nora suggests.
I point at her as I walk to the kitchen to grab a pack of matches. "You aren't smoking."
She plants her hands on her hips. "Uh, yeah I am."
I grunt my displeasure and go to our kitchen, opening the drawer and pulling out a spare pack of matches with an ace symbol on it. My parents always hoard packs of matches when they go to the casino for some reason. I couldn't explain why. They don’t even smoke.
Everyone is huddled on the back deck when I get back to the living room. Luna holds the joint between her fingers, poised to her lips for me to light. I slide on my shoes and step outside. Walking up to her, I stare at her a moment. She stares back at me, her gray eyes in the nighttime sky nearly glowing, looking translucent, like a liquefied silver or mercury as she beams up at me.
I strike the match, lighting up her eyes and her pale face. Her eyes turn gold beside the yellow flame. I cup my hand around the joint and watch the tip grow a bright orange. She sucks on the joint, her eyes going wide before she pulls it out of her mouth and starts coughing. She coughs and coughs until there are tears streaming down her face, rivers of mascara trailing from her cheeks to her chin.
I take it from her, knowing from that one hit she's had enough. I take a hit and pass it around, skipping over my sister. She scowls at me fiercely, but all I do is give her a shrug.
She doesn't need this shit.
Luna wanders over to the edge of the deck, her back to us as she watches the snow fall over the water. Snowflakes flitter into her dark hair. The blackness splotched with crystals of white snow.
She looks angelic.
When I hear the countdown from twenty start inside the house, my feet walk of their own accord. They wander over to Luna, my shoes crunching against the snow. I wrap my arm around her waist. She looks at me, her eyes glazed red and her smile loose. I can feel her counting down in her head, every second inching just a little bit closer to me.
Three.
Two.
One.
I press my lips to hers, and she exhales deeply. I breathe it in. I breathe her in, taking her lips and her body in mine as I wrap my arms around her. I can hear everyone go inside, their quiet footsteps on the deck as they give us space.
Her lips are warm and soft, even though the rest of her is cold. I kiss her until her body trembles, and I'm not sure if it’s from the crisp air or her need. Her chilled hands go up to my shoulders, squeezing me tight.
"Let's go inside," I mumble against her lips, pulling back enough so I can see the look in her eyes. They're wide, wondrous, a little hesitant, and a whole lot turned on. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I want to." She grips the front of my shirt, pulling on me. As if she wants to touch every inch of me. Like she can't get enough.
I kiss her once more and pull her inside. No one is on the main level, and I'm assuming they all went downstairs to hang out. We should go down there with them. I trust my friends more than I trust my sister. I know she's had a crush on Flynn forever. I'll cut his nuts off if he ever does anything with her. I’d be pissed if she did anything with any of my friends for that matter. She’s too good for them.
I pull Luna through the house and down the hallway, not even bothering to take off our shoes. The wet soles seep into the carpet, leaving dark footprints. We end up in my room, and I shut the door behind us. Suddenly it's quiet, so quiet the only thing I can hear is the heavy breathing of both Luna and me. I walk up to her, lifting the ballerina slippers from her neck, holding them between my fingers. I have yet to see her take this off. Every time I see her, she's wearing the necklace.
She brings her hands to the front of her coat, sliding it off her arms and drops it to pool at her feet. She grabs her dress around her waist, bunching it with her hands. She keeps bunching more and more of her dress, until the hem brushes the tops of her thighs. Her bare thighs are pale, and her brown boots click together as her knees tremble. She glances up at me through her long dark eyelashes as dark as her hair that brushes against her pale cheeks, tinged pink from the cold.
She's asking for permission.
I take a step toward her, slamming my mouth to hers and grab her dress between my fingers. I squeeze the soft fabric, bringing my hands around to the small of her back, pulling the dress with me so it stretches taut against her front. It raises a bit, showing off a sliver of her panties.
She lets out a sigh against my lips. "I want to touch you."
I swallow, not sure how far I should take this or how far she wants to go, but my strength is only so strong when it comes to her. I bring my hands underneath her thighs, lifting her into my arms and walk to my bed. Once my thighs are against my bed, I drop her, and she falls onto her back, her hair and dress splaying out around her.
I climb on top of her, pressing every inch of my body against hers. She grabs onto my hair, pulling me to her. I kiss her, licking against her lips and into her mouth. My hand drops to her shoulder, and I trail my fingers down her side. They dip and swell, her newfound curves giving her hips that she's never had before.
Once my hands brush her bare thigh, I move up, brin
ging her dress with my hand until it's bunched around her waist. She snakes her hands between us, grappling at the hem of my shirt and inching it toward my head. I push myself up, grabbing the fabric behind my head and pulling the shirt off in one yank.
Her hands plant on my chest. Gone are her cold fingers and now they are warm, burning as they press against my chest. She trails her fingers around, testing the boundaries and feeling me intimately for the first time. We've touched each other before, obviously, but never like this. It’s like we wanted to search each other's hearts and souls to find the sole purpose for us being together first.
There has to be a reason, right?
There has to be a reason for us to have this infinite need to be in each other's presence. It's grown over time from playing with each other as children, doing simplistic things like playing in the water or riding our bikes to the park, to touching each other. To kissing each other. My rough fingers against her soft skin. Her bruised feet from ballet tangling with mine.
Her lips constantly pressing against mine.
We are an undeniable hunger that cannot be sated.
My fingers brush her panties, and I swipe against damp fabric. It's then I notice her scent in the air, swirling through my nose, and I grow impossibly hard, my erection painfully straining against the zipper of my jeans.
I grunt. No amount of jacking off would take away the swelling of my cock whenever I'm near Luna.
Luna's hands trail down my back, ending at my waist. Her fingers tentatively brush underneath the waistband of my underwear, her curious fingers scraping against the muscle where my ass meets my back.
Her fingers dance around my waist, moving to the front of my jeans. She plays with my button, flicking it a few times with her finger until I feel it loosen, and then the distinct sound of my zipper lowering.
"What're you…?" I move away from her lips, looking down at her in shock. She's not ready to have sex, whether or not she's high as a kite right now. I'm not taking her virginity with her best friend in the other room and my friends downstairs. When my parents could be home at any time.
"I just want to touch you," she moans, lifting her hips against my hand until my fingers swipe against wetness again. She tucks her hand beneath my boxers, and her fingers wrap around my erection, solid and hard as a rock.
Luna sucks in a breath. "It's… smooth, and… warm." Her fingers brush up and down the length, figuring out what feels good and what doesn't.
I bring a hand down, shoving my pants just below my ass, enough where my erection can spring free. It slaps against my stomach. Luna looks down, transfixed and in awe as she watches her hand move against the soft skin.
I have to hold my breath, so I don't ejaculate like a fucking child.
I snake my hand between her thighs, pressing against the wetness a little bolder this time, rubbing her over the panties. She likes this, I realize, as she gives my erection a tight squeeze. Her hands are shaky as I continue to rub her, and the wet spot on her panties grows larger, until most of the fabric is translucent. Her pale pink panties against the dampness become see-through, and I can see her naked slit through the fabric.
I bring my fingers up, curling them around the hem of her panties and pull them down over her thighs. They rock back and forth on her ankle, and she kicks her foot, flinging them to the floor.
Then her bottom half is on display, naked for me for the first time ever. I sit up, my erection sliding out of her hand as I try to get a better look.
"Can I?" I nudge at her knees, and her cheeks flame red, but she does as I ask, dropping her knees to the side to show me the slickness between her legs. Her juices spread to the insides of her thighs. I bend down, looking closer, inspecting every fold and crevice and perfection that is a part of her.
"Oh my God, what're you doing?" she shrieks, closing her thighs on each side of my head.
I push her legs apart. "Stop. You're… fucking hell." I let out a heavy breath and watch as her folds tense and quiver.
Fucking. Shit.
I can't not.
My tongue peeks out, and I swipe between her folds. My eyes roll in the back of my head at the flavor, the sweetness as it touches my tongue. A slight tanginess that lingers in my mouth. I can't help but go back for more, licking up her wetness.
Her hips jackknife off the bed, and I bring my hand to her stomach, pushing against the softness of her belly until her butt hits my sheets once again.
I continue licking her, continue ravaging her, swallowing every drop of juice I possibly can, until her pants turn into moans, and I bring my hand to her mouth so everyone in the house doesn't know what we're doing in here.
Her body starts trembling, and I know she's orgasming. I suck on the bud at the top of her folds, flicking my tongue against it until her trembling stops, and she sinks into the mattress like a wilted flower.
I lean back on my knees, my erection straining and nearly purple, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
"I've never…" she pants.
My eyes widen. "That was your first time?"
She nods, rolling over and glancing down at my erection. "My turn?"
She crawls toward me, grabbing it in her hand. She grips it tightly, moving her hand awkwardly up and down. I place my hand over hers. "Like this." I show her how I like it, and when I release my hand, she does exactly as I showed.
My eyes roll in the back of my head.
It doesn't take long. Her tiny, firm fingers wrapping around my erection make it painfully hard. Soon enough, I grunt, "Going to come." That doesn't stop her, and she keeps pumping, until I'm spilling all over my stomach and all over her hand.
Perfect.
She brings a finger up to her mouth, dipping it between her wet lips and places the pad on her tongue, tasting me.
"Mmmm. Tastes good."
Fucking shit.
CHAPTER TEN
LUNA
1994
"Ugh, isn't he hot?" Nora says from beside me.
I stare at Roman, singing his heart out as his fingers fly over the strings of his guitar. He owns the stage; he owns the guitar. He owns everything that he walks on. There's just something about him that's so… possessive. He's an enigma, and I guess I've known it since we were little, but as he gets older it only gets more real.
But now… now he's in his last year in high school, and the little boy that I used to know is now a man. His long, dark hair is damp at the ends from sweat as he shakes it to the beat of his music. I watch as droplets of sweat fly into the air. He doesn't look anywhere besides his guitar, otherwise his eyes are closed. He doesn't play for the crowd. He plays because he was born to do it.
"Can you stop watching my brother like that?" I look over at Nora and see her face scrunched up in distaste.
"Shut up." I flick my bunched-up straw wrapper at her.
"I can't believe this year is almost over. Next year we're going to be seniors."
"I know." I frown. It's been good to be back in school with Roman, mostly now that we're dating. It feels natural. Never once have things been awkward or feel uncomfortable. Every little bit of our relationship has been flawless, seamless. We easily melded from best friends to boyfriend and girlfriend.
But I guess things are effortless when you're soulmates.
"Have you figured out what school you're planning to go to yet? You can still come with me to Madison."
I shake my head. "I'm still hoping for Julliard. You know that's my goal."
She frowns. "New York, though? That's halfway across the country. What am I going to do without you?"
I smile. "I'll come home. My parents won’t let me stay away for long. And you can always come out to visit." I shake my head. "You don't have to even worry about that. We still have senior year before anything is set in stone."
"What do you think Roman's going to do?"
Those words make my stomach flop. It's been a taboo question that I haven't wanted to think about. One both Roman and I hav
en't brought up at all. I really hope it's because he plans to stick around until I'm done with school, and not because he has some plan I don't know about churning in the background.
But he wouldn't do that to me, right?
I couldn't imagine he would. The thought of being without him fractures my heart to no end. Being with him is like breathing, being without him would steal my breath and heart. Living would be impossible.
Everyone starts cheering in the little coffee shop turned concert. They have Thursday and Saturday night bands play, and since our town is so small, Roman's is usually the only band that performs.
Doesn't bother anyone much. They're so good at this point they could be famous. People from different towns come to see Roman and his band play.
Cataclysm.
Roman’s band’s name.
Everyone stands up, cheering and whistling. For the first time since his song started, Roman looks directly out at my usual table, locking eyes with mine. He smiles, and I smile back. He sets his guitar in his stand and gives his friends a nod before bending down, pressing his hands against the stage as he hops off, walking over to me.
Planting a wet kiss on me, he smiles. "What'd you think?"
"As always, perfection." I smile against his mouth, tasting the saltiness of his sweat as I lick my lips.
"Ready to go?" His fingers go to the ballet slippers around my neck. Ever since we started dating, Roman has been bringing me to ballet. He stays if he can, watching me dance and practice until my toes are bloody and bruised, and then he brings me home, lying with me and my tired body until I'm asleep.
"Ready." I grab my bag with my leotard and slippers. Sliding my fingers through Roman's, we walk out the door together and down the street toward the dance studio. The evening is quiet, only a few locals walking in and out of the shops. I can see the sun setting over by the park, the red sun lighting up the metal swing set. Inhaling deeply, I smell the familiar cornfield and beachy lake only blocks away.
