Page 15 of Grease & Grips
“So why me?”
There’s a moment where I expect him to hesitate. To reach for a lie so he can tell me whatever he thinks I want to hear, but his answer comes almost instantly like he never even considered saying anything else.
“You look like a storm cloud and I’ve always been drawn to thunder.”
“Leave it to the city boy to say the smartest, most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” I mutter barely holding myself together.
“If you want,” he says hushed and coaxing, “I’m down to keep saying things like that for the rest of the night.”
Idowant that.
I want to hear every word. I want to hoard them and tuck them away for when I’m alone again so I can remember someone once looked at me and thought those things.
“You gotta let yourself, Mack,” he says.
Hollowing out a little, I flick a hand between us. “I don’t know how to do this. I haven’t?—”
My head’s a mess. All I can think about is every fumbled touch, every time it felt like I was a thing to use, not someone to want.
“I’m not a… I don’t know that I’m very good at whatever this is.”
“That’s okay,” he says. “I’m patient and I’m a very good teacher.”
“I want it,” I say, voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t crowd me as he moves in, but he’s close enough to make the air hum. That cologne of his is sharp and citrus and a reminder of how different our two worlds really are. I might not be breathing right, but I don’t need to. Not when he’s this close. Not when he’s looking at me like that.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he says gently. “But… I don’t think I can walk away from this night if I don’t kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed.”
He’s giving me a look that holds every single thing I don’t know how to ask for.
I want to stop pretending I don’t care when all I’ve done since he showed up is fall apart in quiet little pieces hoping he’d notice.
“Okay,” The sound scrapes its way out. “You can kiss me.”
And I mean it. God help me, I mean it.
He nods, slipping his fingers around the back of my neck and guiding me forward, pulling me down between his legs until my whole weight settles on top of him.
His citrus scent is so much stronger now that we’re tangled up. I breathe deep, trying to memorize it. I want this smell burned into my brain. I want to be wrecked by it every time anything close to it passes me on the street. I want it to mean him.
The featherlight way his fingers trace my skin make me feel like I’m something worth handling gently, even now, even like this.
I plant my hands on either side of his head, caging him in, and start to lower myself.
It’s timid, but he doesn’t rush or pull. He lets me set the pace.
When I finally close my eyes and press my lips to his I see everything.
The whole world opens up behind my eyes. Bright and endless. Possibilities I didn’t know I was allowed to want spelled out on his lips.
He lets my tongue slip past, and when his meets mine, I break open in ways I’ll be feeling for days. Every defense I’ve ever built crumbles without a fight.
I chose this and I would give anything to choose it again.
And again.
And again.
