Page 40 of When Stars Collide
“You’re afraid of heights, so you climb a tree?”
He shrugged. “I’m a complicated kid.”
“That you are.”
Jackson downed the rest of his water and handed the glass to me. “I’m done. Goodnight, Mena.” He hopped off the couch and began making his way down the hall.
“Goodnight, Jack. Is it okay if I call you Jack?”
“No.”
“Fair enough.”
*****
I awoke early the next morning beside a still sleeping Peter. My fingertips lightly caressed his bare back, tracing the outline of the cross tattoo he’d had done after his grandfather passed away a couple of years ago. At first, the maneuverings of my finger across his skin drew nothing more from him than a slight hitch in his breathing. But moments later, he began to stir.
“Mmm,” he moaned, rolling over to face me.
“Did you miss me?”
“I would have if you hadn’t woken me up before seven on a Sunday.”
“I could always let you go back to sleep,” I said, biting my lower lip while my hand made its way up his thigh.
“No, I’m up now.”
“I’ll say you are.”
He exhaled sharply, leaning his forehead against mine, just as my hand found its way between his legs.
“Mena, what are you doing to me?”
“You don’t know?”
“I meant that metaphorically, not literally.”
“I know.”
His lips found mine, hungry and eager. I shifted my body, rolling on top of him. Peter’s hands worked to remove my camisole, and the touch of his fingertips against my bare breasts instantaneously formed goosebumps down my arms. Still straddling him, I slid his basketball shorts down below his knees as he worked his legs up and down to slide them off the rest of the way. His muscular arms wound their way around me, pushing me down against his body. My cheek brushed the stubble on his chin as I began lightly kissing his neck.
Peter moaned, his hands gliding softly down the length of my body, stopping when they reached the waistband of my panties, where he lost all sense of decorum. His fingers gripped the lacy material and he hurriedly yanked my bikini briefs down to my mid-thigh.
I feigned a yawn. “Gee, I’m feeling awfully tired. You’re right, it’s early. Maybe we should go back to sleep.”
“No, I was wrong. So very, very wrong.”
“I could get used to hearing that.” I slid my body down the length of Peter’s torso, closing in on his waist, when the bedroom door burst open and Jackson bounded inside.
“Shit.” Peter threw the comforter over us as I managed to hike my panties back up, stealing a peek out from underneath the covers.
“What were you two doing?” Jackson asked, very much befuddled. “And why were you naked? That’s gross.”
“Oh, well,” Peter began, uncharacteristically flustered, “Mena just misplaced her clothes and was crawling over the bed to look for them.”
“I found them,” I proclaimed, holding up the camisole.
“See, all good now.”
