Page 11 of Falling Faster
"All of them?" I gape at him, and the list falls through my grip, fluttering to the floor. I scramble to snatch it up. "You're kidding. That would be like the best thing ever."
"Then I really hope I'm not raising your hopes for nothing." A gentle smile curving his lips, he traces a path down my arm once more. When our fingers brush together, he lingers over the caress, as if tempted to link our hands together. Too soon, the touch falls away. "Let's find out."
We weave through the crowded aisles, Craig calling out greetings and waving to a few vendors along the way. He ducks his head close to my ear and murmurs, "We'll come back to those tables if the first one doesn't have everything. They won't rip you off."
"I really appreciate this." If any of these vendors have good stuff, I'll text Slater so he won't miss out.
Finally, we reach the vendor Craig first pointed out, tucked into a corner. Hundreds of comic books stacked in neat order dominate the shelves, accompanied by vintage figurines in protective packaging. Craig introduces us and I hand over my list.
Resisting the urge to drum my fingers along the table's edge, I lean into Craig's side and watch the vendor sort through stacks that are kept away from any attendee's reach. The warmth of Craig's palm grazes my back, but the fleeting touch fades far too quickly.
One by one, the vendor places the coveted issues in front of me. The small pile grows, along with the excitement swirling through my system. Scoring so many issues atonce seems unbelievable, yet it's happened—thanks to Craig.
I take my phone from my pocket. "I need to text Slater. Let him know this guy has good stuff."
"Here, I'll point out the other ones we can visit, so he'll know they're all right." He unfolds the map and runs a finger along the page, pausing at three spots spread across the hall. I type the corresponding table numbers into the message. Text sent, I slip the phone into my pocket.
"I have all but three." The vendor sets my list on top of the books. He gives me a fair price, and I'm within the amount I've budgeted for books this weekend, which means I don't have to put anything back.
After I pay, I thank the guy, and with the bag holding my new treasures in hand, I turn away from the table and bump my shoulder into Craig's. "After how yesterday and this morning went, I was beginning to think I wouldn't find anything. You really are like my superhero."
He waves away the praise. The tips of his ears grow red as he falls in step beside me. "I'm happy you found almost everything you wanted."
We visit the rest of the vendors Craig knows, and I swing between the exhilaration of being with him and the wistfulness of sharing the experience with someone special, someone I might never get to share it, or anything, with again, once the weekend ends.
At the last vendor, we find the final issue I need.
Before I can pull out my wallet, Craig hands a credit card to the woman behind the table. "We'll take it."
I grab his arm, locking my fingers around his biceps. The vintage comic isn't the most expensive of the ones I've bought, but I wouldn't call it cheap either. "I can't let you do that. It's too much."
"I want to." Something sweet and earnest flashes through his features. "Consider it a souvenir from me to you for this weekend."
Every time I see that issue, I know I'll think of Craig, but saying that out loud seems too sappy. "Thank you. Now I owe you a souvenir, too."
"You drew that picture of me." Craig switches his attention to the woman, accepts both the credit card and the bag holding the comic book, then hands the bag to me. He pockets his wallet, calls a thanks to the vendors, and then guides me away from the table. "What else is on your agenda?"
After glancing around to make sure we aren't blocking a path, I twist toward Craig and press a quick kiss to his mouth. The man smells like cinnamon and a hint of something darker. "That."
"That?" A smile plays across his lips. He shifts his body to protect me from the three children running past, brandishing light sabers. Their voices rise and fall as they fly by. "I liked that a lot. In fact, I think I need to experience it again."
Happiness and attraction bolt through my body, lighting up every cell. I link our hands together. "Then let's go."
I draw Craig through the crowded hall and out into the sunshine. Heat covers us like a blanket. We walk until we reach a semi-secluded area shaded by the building's shadow. I set my bags against the wall, then shift until I stand torso to torso with him.
Drawing in a breath, I cup my free hand around the back of his neck. Warm skin and silky hair meet my palm. For a moment, we watch each other. Then, Craig's hands grasp my back and urge me forward, into the circle of his embrace. Our lips meet, and I pour everything I have into the kiss.
Longing. Need. Desire. Want.
Angling my head, I take the kiss deeper. Craig battles me for control, tongue twining with mine as his fingers draw small circles on my lower back. The touches weaken my knees. Moaning, I press our torsos together. Firm muscle lines up against my chest and his semi-hard cock presses into my hip. I can't help a subtle thrust, wanting him to feel my swelling dick, and longing to shed the layers of material separating our bodies. Kissing Craig, holding him, touching him feels so good, far better than holding the most coveted comic book.
Strong fingers press into my body, drawing me even tighter against him, and our tongues duel and thrust, a dance of wet heat. The heady rush of desire makes me lightheaded. I lose myself in the free-fall sensation. Clutching the material at Craig's back provides me with an anchor.
Gradually, the kisses lighten. Craig raises his head and strokes his hand through my hair. I could gaze into his eyes for ages. Lips swollen, we watch each other, our chests pressing together with the rise and fall of our breaths.
A text alert interrupts our wordless admiration of each other with the sound I've chosen for Slater.
"I'd better check that in case he needs something." Sighing, I lower my arms and wait for Craig to do the same. Already missing the feel of his body, I step back, fish out my phone, and relay the message across my screen. "Slater said thanks for the heads up on the vendors. And sent a pic…" I burst out laughing at the image.
