Page 86 of Please Don't Leave Me

I go to grab my plate to bring it to the sink, but he beats me to it. I walk back to the hallway to grab a towel out of the closet. Most of the doors are shut, so it's a bit of a guessing game, but I eventually find the right door.

I go to reach up for a towel but stop when I spot a shelf full of games, and right up front, I see a little red box. It's the question game that we played together when we first started talking.

I smile to myself and grab it off the shelf. Fond memories flood my brain, and I want to read a few cards to bring me back there, back when I thought I was falling for Sam and that he was falling for me.

We talked about so many things and didn't just stop at the questions. We often got lost on tangents, talking about things that related to the cards but going way deeper, sharing way more. I look over my shoulder to make sure he can't see me. I turn back to the box and open it, taking out a few cards from the Level 2 section.

My brows scrunch together in confusion.

What is this?

The cards I picked up have writing on them. I grab out a few more cards and realize that almost all of them are covered in black Sharpie. I read the slightly messy handwriting and realize that it’s answers to the questions. My answers.

He had been writing down my answers to the questions. My heart starts to ache, and water pools in my eyes, making my vision blurry. I blink them away, and one falls on the card I was reading.

"Did you find it?"

I startle and turn to see Sam standing at the other end of the hallway, near the kitchen. He looks at me with that sweet face, standing there in his blue shirt and grey sweatpants.

He looks so good.

He must notice my tears because his face turns, and helooks concerned. His eyes wander to the box and the cards I'm holding.

My voice is slightly hoarse from choking back tears, but I manage to ask, "You wrote down my answers?"

He slowly nods his head, and he looks hesitant. "I didn't want to forget anything about you."

My chin quivers, and I focus all my effort on not letting any more tears fall. How did it go from this to ending so fast? I don't get it, and I'm even more confused now than I have been in the past eight months.

I can see his chest rising and falling, his breathing labored. He takes a couple steps down the hall, closing the distance between us, but stops with a few feet remaining. I can see his face better now, and it looks just as pained as my body feels.

I drop the cards on the floor and lunge forward the last few feet to close the gap. His arms reach out and catch me, pulling me in close to him. My arms wrap around his neck, and I plant my lips on his.

Our lips move wildly across each other's, and my hands work their way through his curls, pulling him even closer and pressing our lips even tighter together. My heart is racing, and I can feel his against my chest, keeping pace with mine. His hands slide down my back to my thighs, and he picks me up, wrapping my legs around him.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth and brushes up against mine. I moan and move my hips against him, unable to control myself. The next thing I know, he's carrying me down the hallway and into his bedroom. He walks blindly all the way to his bed without a single misstep. He puts one knee on the bed to stabilize himself and lays me down.

My legs are still wrapped around him, and I hold themfirm when he tries to pull away. I want to keep him close to me; I don't want to let go. His full weight is on me, and I take pleasure in the compression of him. His hands, no longer needing to support my weight, still linger on my thighs. He runs them up and down, finally resting them on my ass.

He lets go and lifts himself up; this time, I release him. He kneels on the bed between my legs, and I lift myself up on my elbows, waiting for his next move. He lifts up his shirt that I'm wearing, enough to expose my stomach. He bends over and runs his lips across my skin, kissing from my sternum, across my naval, and lower to the waistband of the shorts. I run a hand through his hair and lay back, closing my eyes, soaking in every ounce of his touch.

He teases at the waistband, pulling it down only slightly and running his tongue along the sensitive skin on my hip. My body is begging for him, so ready to feel him again.

He stops, and I look down at him to see why he stopped. I find him looking at me, a question in his eyes. I nod. "Yes...please."

He continues, pulling down the shorts painfully slow and thoroughly kissing each new section of skin that gets uncovered. Finally, he's where I want him. He grabs the shorts, pulls them the rest of the way down, and throws them behind him.

For whatever reason, I chose not to keep my underwear on when I changed last night, and I'm glad I didn't. I can't take any more of this slow torture.

He licks up my already wet center and moans into me, sending a shiver up my spine. I echo his moans as he devours me like he's been starving for days. I'm so worked up that it doesn't take long for me to come all over his tongue. He didn't even have a chance to use his fingersthis time.

I sit up slightly and lean forward to grab his chin, pulling it up toward my face. I kiss him while he's still got my come all over his lips, and I taste myself on him.

He looks winded in the best way. I bite my bottom lip, and he reaches one hand up to cup my cheek, running his thumb across my wet, swollen lip. I playfully bite the tip of his thumb, and he smiles at me, eyes hungry for the promise of more.

I wiggle out from under him, and he waits for my queue. I push gently on his shoulders, coaxing him up on his knees and then further onto his back. He swings his legs around and adjusts himself so he's more centered on the bed and takes off his shirt.

When I finally have him where I want him. I spread his legs and crawl between them. Then, with both hands, I grab his sweats and tug them down. He lifts up his hips to help me as I pull them all the way off, tossing them on the floor.

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