Page 50 of Forever

Laughing slightly, I kiss the tip of his nose, trying to placate him. “My flight leaves in a few hours. Or, well, was supposed to leave in a few hours.”

“You were coming to me,” he whispers, sounding almost shocked.

“I was coming home.”

A smile slowly spreads over his lips. “You’re my home too, Tinkerbell.”

His lips seal over mine, kissing me slowly. The first touch of his lips on mine is always the best.

Slow torture.

I’ve missed his kisses so much I want to plunge into him and devour his mouth, but at the same time, I want to feel every single thing.

Every emotion.

Every breathe.

Every beat of his heart.

I want to feel it all.

His hands cup my butt, holding me in the air, so I pull at the strands of his hair, bringing him closer to me.

I tilt his head to the side and trace his lower lip with the tip of my tongue. His mouth opens and lets me in, our tongues mingling together.

At the first touch we both moan loudly, the sound muffled by the kiss. I feel his hands grip my cheeks tighter. Pulling me closer. My heels press into his back and our centers rub against each other. Need pools between my thighs at the feel of his hardness cradled between my legs.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur softly between kisses.

Will changes the direction of our kiss. One of his hands slides up my back and gets lost in my loose curls.

“Me too … So much.” He angles my head the way he wants it and his tongue goes in deeper. Demanding. Needy. “I love you.”

I don’t remember how, but we end up on the bench. I’m sitting in his lap and we’re kissing like two horny teenagers in the backseat of the car with curfew looming over our heads.

Eventually, we slow down and separate. I slowly open my eyes and look at him. His lips are red and puffy, swollen from our kisses and there is an amused tingle of light in his brown eyes.

Pressing my forehead to his, I let my fingers straighten the messy strands, waiting for the panting to stop and my heart to slow down.

His hands cup my cheeks, his eyes tracing every line of my face. I see his smile slowly drop when he sees underneath my façade.

Tired eyes. Purple bags. Prominent cheekbones.

“Did you go to the doctor, like I said?” His fingers trace lightly under my eyes and over the cheekbones. “You look like shit.”

“Seriously?” I pout. “If Emily was here she’d wash your mouth with soap.”

My attempt at a joke fails miserably.

“If Mom were here now, she’d agree with me and punch me for not making you go to the doctor sooner. This doesn’t look like being too tired from lack of sleep and extra hard work in school.” He’s all serious now. Worry written all over his face. “I don’t want you to be sick, Bel. If something were to happen to you and …” He gulps down, hand rubbing over his face in distress. “If anything happens to you, it’ll kill me.”

His voice sounds small and pained. Like even thinking about the possibility of something happening to me causes him physical pain.

I can understand it, because there is no way I could survive if something happened to him. Breathing in to calm my raging nerves, I let the words stumble from my lips in a hurry.

“I have to tell you something.”

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