Page 22 of Lies and Lullabies
“I’m just so sorry.”
“You’re holding me awfully tightly.”
“Is it scaring you?”
“No.”
“Then deal with it.”
I laughed. “I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”
“Pretty much. I can’t climb on top of you with that image in my head.”
“See? This is why it’s tempting not to tell the ex-boyfriend when he comes back. He might not be able to handle it.”
“That would be his loss.” He held me close, but his grip relaxed, and after a time I realized he’d drifted off. His face was serene, his chin against my shoulder.
The light was still on, and I knew I should probably switch it off. But as I sat up, I just couldn’t stop admiring him. I knew he was out of my league—five years older, not to mention incredibly handsome. The glow of the lamp made his skin even more golden than it was in the daylight. And the tan line at his waist invited exploration. I dropped my head and began to trace his skin with my lips, dropping kisses down his belly.
“Mmm,” he murmured sleepily.
I’d honestly never been so bold in my life, but I did not want to stop touching him. His tight abs changed color from bronze to pale gold as they plunged past a set of trim hips. A strip of sandy hair wandered down the center of his lower belly, and I followed it. Feeling very, very brave, I pressed soft lips against him.Everywhere.
Later I would wonder—if I’d just let him sleep, would I have gotten pregnant? Probably not, I’d eventually decided.
But I wasn’t thinking at all, back then. I’d teased him until he was thoroughly awake. He’d made a comical growl, low in his throat. And then he pulled me down onto his chest for a kiss. I had never been kissed like that before—as if I were vital to someone’s continued survival. Drunk on my own lust, I allowed myself to be rolled over.
John shifted his body over mine again. At first, the weight of him felt wonderful. He kissed my neck, my ear, my collarbone. But then somehow I began to feel a little bit trapped, and too warm. I forgot to think about how sexy he was and focused only on my growing anxiety. “Wait!” I cried out.
He went still immediately, rolling to the side. “Kira…” He was breathing hard, but his eyes were full of compassion. He propped his head in one hand. “Do you trust me?”
I did, but that was beside the point. And it wasn’t easy to explain. “I trust you. I do. But sometimes I just panic, and it doesn’t matter that I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
He’d looked thoughtful. “Okay. I know a thing or two about triggers.”
“Really?” I tried to focus on his face and words and relax my body.
“When I was a kid, I saw a horrible car accident. For years, the squeal of a truck’s brakes made me crazy. It still does. But also, the sound of feedback from a microphone sometimes reminds me of it. Sometimes I have to stop and remind myself out loud which sound I’m hearing andordermyself to remember that it isn’t dangerous. I’ll be standing up there in front of…” He let the sentence die.
“What?”
He shook his head. “I just talk to myself, that’s all. And sometimes people stare. But it calms me down.”
I looked into his kind eyes and smiled. “Whatever works, right?”
“Right. The trick is to convince your body to listen to what your heart already knows. You try it. Say out loud what we were going to do.”
“We were going to make love.”
A slow smile crept across his face. Just then, I would have done anything to keep it there. “And how’s that going to feel, Kira?”
“Awesome.”
“Be specific. Tell your bodyexactlywhat good things will happen.”
This little game was far, far outside my comfort zone. But I’d brought the two of us here by my own design, and he was trying so hard to be good for me. So I took a deep breath, and said, “You’re going to… fill me up.”
He turned his chin to face me, a devilish smile in his eyes. “Go on.”
