Page 61 of Saving Barrette

Taking a shuddering breath, I smile, too, and his lips find my neck and trail up my jaw, his body crowding mine. “Do you want me to leave?”

I shake my head frantically, violently. No way I want him to leave. “No,” I gasp, my hands sliding from his chest to his shoulders. I rise up on my tippy-toes to bring his lips to mine. “I want you here with me. Always.” And when his warm lips find mine, I know he’s exactly what I need, our pulses sharing the same rhythm.

There’s a beat of silence before Asa clears his throat. I push the door open.

“We don’t have to do anything besides hang out,” he reminds me when we’re inside my dorm, and I’m looking at my bed, and then him. He shakes his head like he’s trying to rid himself from naughty thoughts.

I laugh nervously, remembering what Lexi told me about sex. “My therapist says having sex is unhealthy.”

Peeling his jacket off, he smirks. His scent hits me: male, sweat, hotness. “She must be doing it wrong.”

My laughter comes easy that he makes light of it. “Probably. We can watch a movie.” Before I get my iPad off my desk, Asa grabs my hand, halting me. His expression is conflicted. “I mean it. We don’t have to do anything. I didn’t come here expecting us to have sex.”

I grin. “Not even a little bit?”

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, yeah. A lot of me wants it, but I didn’t come here for that. I want to be with you.”

His calmness, his warmth, it’s everything I need tonight. “Let’s just see where it goes from here.” My hand slides into his and I lead him over to my bed setting the iPad on the nightstand.

Asa follows, kicking off his shoes and his sweatshirt next. I do the same, but I take my jeans off too. It’s more comfortable that way. Naturally, Asa groans and falls face-first on the bed dramatically. “You’re making it difficult,” he mumbles into my pillow and then grips it in his fists.

I don’t know what it is about seeing him take his frustration out on my poor undeserving pillow, but it sends a jolt of desire between my legs. I want to crawl on top of him and show him how much I want him.

Asa twists his head at my laughter ringing through the room. He’s still flat on his stomach, glaring. “Put something on. I can’t lay here with you if you don’t have something on.”

My eyes flicker from his to the movie now playing on my iPad, the colors reflecting off the jar on my nightstand and Asa’s tense features. I look back to his face. He’s still glaring at me. Rolling my eyes, I move toward my dresser, pull on a pair of cotton shorts and throw my arms up in the air. “Better?”

He rolls over and scrubs his hands over his face. “No.”

“Too bad.” I take a few steps toward the bed.

“Fine.” Suddenly he sits up. With a smirk, he peels his shirt off and tosses it at my head.

The scent of him hits me. I breathe in slowly. Damn him. “Ugh” is my response. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Homefield advantage.”

“For who?”

“You.” He winks, lying back down on the bed and tucking his hands behind his head. “But I won the coin toss.”

With him stretched out on my very small twin bed, I make a slow pass over his body. From his long legs, his hips and the way his jeans hang low, I fight the urge to jump on him. The top of his boxers peek out just a little bit. A fraction of an inch higher, the cut lines of his V is where my eyes fixate. I take another step closer, as if he has a gravitational pull over me.

His breathing quickens, his stomach flexing when he moves his hands from behind his head and sits up. Swinging his legs around the side of the bed, he reaches for me, his hands circling around the backs of my bare thighs. Higher, higher… tentatively, as if he’s dealing with a bomb that’s about to detonate, his hands find the swell of my bottom.

I concentrate on breathing in and out, trying not to hyperventilate. His head leans against my stomach. I thread my hands through his hair, my body trembling with want. And then he squeezes my backside at the same time a rumble leaves his chest. Desire, need, love, it’s all written in his eyes when they lift to mine and he tips his head back, lids heavy.

I move, lifting one leg on the edge of my bed, then the other so I’m straddling him. I don’t sit, though. I keep about an inch of frustrating space between our hips. We’re both panting when Asa’s strong hands return to my butt. This time he slips them underneath my shorts to my bare skin.

His mouth finds the space between my neck and shoulder, his scruffy jaw gliding over my sensitive skin. The way his quick pants hit my already heated skin, it’s too much. I need more.

I need all of him.

His hungry lips search mine in an almost frantic manner and when they finally weld to mine, I bring my hips in line with his and rock against him. It’s everything, and so much more. Tingles shoot through me. I gasp, I moan, heck, I’m not even sure what my reaction is because I pretty much lose the ability to comprehend anything, let alone remember to breathe at that point. It’s a blur and Asa’s reaction is similar. His kisses turn frantic, as if his next breath depends on mine. His hands working in sync, with determination as he removes my shirt and then my bra.

“Asa,” I gasp, pulling my mouth from his while driving my hips back and forth over him. We stay like that for what seems like forever, me rocking against him and his mouth moving lower, toward my breasts. Just before his mouth reaches their destination, he pauses, his hands trailing up my sides. With a gentle touch, he waits, his hands closing around them, his eyes on mine. He waits.

We haven’t been here before, believe it or not.

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