21. Grace

twenty-one

What was I thinking, asking him to kiss me? I ruined both our lives with my stupid impulsiveness back then, and now I’m about to do the same. Because I know the moment he kisses me, I’ll be lost to him. I can tell already.

Just his voice, rumbling down to my insides. His hands, cupping my face. God… god! His hands on my face? The best feeling. Always been.

The desire behind his hooded eyelids.

And when he murmured, “I’m falling for you all over again.”

Oh god, and now his lips are trailing mine, not quite a kiss yet, just the whisper of one, his exhale a caress. My whole body vibrates, my center is a hot mess, my knees barely support me.

But what happens next? How do we pick ourselves up, when our daily adult lives, now set without each other in them, take over? When this kiss on the bridge lives on as a memory, will it carry me through my life?

Or will it destroy me slowly.

“What happens after we kiss?” A kiss with Ethan will never be just a kiss. It will be more than that. It always was. We should talk about that first. Even if we end up just kissing, shouldn’t we set reasonable expectations? Limitations? I mean, if the past has taught us anything—

His lips claim mine, shutting my brain off. I whimper under the onslaught of emotions, under the warmth and weight of his body engulfing mine, under the erotic strokes of his tongue, slow and questioning first, now downright domineering, claiming, taking.

I thought I remembered everything about him.

I was right, and I was wrong.

No matter how much I tried, his taste, the feel of him was always elusive. But now that he’s taking me, greedy, possessive, oh god—I remember all of it. The slow sweeps of his tongue, asking for a permission it doesn’t need, accessing my mouth tentatively first, then with the intense devotion Ethan always had for me. His hands press my back tighter against him, the fierceness of his rapid heartbeat confirming this is not, will never be, just a kiss.

This is ten years of yearning finally coming to an end.

I dig my fingers in his short hair, and he growls against my mouth, presses himself harder against me, claims my mouth with more urgency, as if he’s afraid I might leave and he wants to seal us together right here, right now.

I might leave. I should leave.

“God, I missed you,” he growls as he dips his mouth to my neck and suckles on it. Desire zings through me, and my head falls back, giving him better access.

My whole body caves, gives in, takes him.

I’m not leaving.

Not now that his strong arms close around me, sheltering me from the outside world. From tomorrow. Not now that his hands claim my body, roam up and down my back, caress my ass, hitch my leg up his hip. Press his erection against my belly.

“Ethan…” is all I have the strength to utter. I’m powerless in his arms.

How could I have been so stupidly impulsive, back then, to turn him away just because of what I thought I saw?

He nibbles on my lower lip, kisses my eyelids, then dips down to my mouth again, our teeth clashing as he pulls me tighter against him.

“God, I missed you,” he whispers again against my lips, his breath tingling my insides.

How could I have been so infatuated with my own self that I didn’t give him a chance to explain himself?

“Missed your smell. Missed how good you feel in my arms. Missed your mouth under mine.” He hoists me onto his hips with surprising ease, dips his head in my neck again, and suckles me, sending pleasure rippling through my center. “Fuck, but I want you so bad.”

I want you too, Ethan. So. Bad.

Ten years. I gave up ten years of this because I was so impulsive.

But what am I doing, now? I’m being impulsive again. Not thinking about the consequences. I have my life here. He barely ever gets time to visit. This is another disaster in the making.

“What happens now?” I whisper. I knew this kiss would be the best. No question. That’s why I dreaded it.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, his hooded gaze follows the curve of my neck, falls on my chest. He strokes my breast slowly. Agonizingly slowly. His rugged hand is just the right amount of rough on my sensitive bud.

Ethan was always the best lover. Bar none. After we split, I caught a wild hair in college, and I gathered material. Nothing compared to Ethan. Sometimes, in the years that followed my return from Texas, I’d let myself think that I’d idealized him because he was my first.

I was wrong.

I tighten my legs around his waist and run my hand through his hair. God he feels so good.

I moan and writhe under his touch, the last shreds of my reason fleeing with every stroke of his hand on my body, every place his lips have kissed. Wanting more and knowing I’ll regret it, come morning. “I think we just had too much to drink—”

He cups my face with his hands, again. Makes me feel like the center of the universe, again. “Coke. I only had Coke. And you had water.”

He runs his lips on my hair, and shivers run down my spine, making me arch my back and press myself even tighter against him. “This is real, Grace. You know it and I know it. I know you’re scared, and I am too. And I know I can’t give you tomorrow, but I sure as hell can give you tonight.”

He glides the ridge of his nose against the tip of mine. The tender, intimate gesture nearly undoes me. “Do you want to give me tonight, Grace? Do you want to be us again? If just for now.”

Tears surge and fall onto my cheeks.

“Fuck,” he draws out. “Please tell me these are happy tears.”

I nod and burrow my face against him.

“Happy tears?” he growls, stomping to the other side of the bridge with my legs tightly wrapped around him, my dress bunched up, my hands fisting his short hair.

I nod against his chest, inhaling his masculine scent.

“Tonight?”

At least we’re on the same page. I’d give a lifetime of memories for a night with Ethan. I nod again.

“Your car or my bike?” he growls.

I straighten in his arms and look around. We’re on the narrow road leading back to the village. “I-I’m not… having sex on your bike.” I wiggle to let him know he can set me down, but he ignores this.

He chuckles. “Now that’s an idea…” He flutters kisses on the top of my head. “I meant to get to your place.”

“Oh…”

“Did you want to go somewhere else?”

I wiggle again, with no success. We’re approaching The Green, the streetlights, the nosy stares. “Um… we could go to Woodbury Knoll.”

“All night? The treehouse is gone.”

Did he check on the treehouse? And what did he just say—All night? Am I spending the night with Ethan?

He finally sets me down, and reading my thoughts, he lowers his gaze on me while I adjust my dress. “We’re not teenagers anymore, Grace. This isn’t some…” His hand waves dismissively, his thought interrupted. “So—your bike or my car?”

The question is not how we get there. The question is that Ethan—Ethan!—will be spending the night, the whole night, at my place. In my house. In my bed. There will be coffee in the morning, and-and-and…

“I mean, nothing wrong with the woods. Just might get a little chilly early morning,” he offers, proving once again he’s reading my thoughts, my fears.

He might have the same.

“Let’s take your bike,” I whisper, liking the way his lips curve up.

Our hands link together as we hasten up to The Green.

Lazy’s is still busy, light and voices pouring out of the open doors onto the sidewalk. Haley comes out holding a tray full of drinks. Her gaze is on her patrons, and I try to keep mine straight on the bike.

Ethan hands me his helmet. The bike revs, and I climb behind him, trying to pull my dress down my thighs in a futile attempt at modesty. My sixth sense tingles, and as I look to Lazy’s, I break into a huge smile at Haley’s double take. At the happiness on her face. At her happy wink.

Ethan pulls me closer to him and caresses my bare leg, then grabs my hand to place it around his waist, then gives his gawking sister a small wave. I lace my other hand around his torso and lean my head against his back as we lurch off from the curb.

The roar of the engine means we can’t talk, only feel. And I can feel everything, down to the tiniest gravel on the road. The bugs hitting my bare arms. The warm air feeling cool on my skin.

His hand, warm against my thigh.

His heartbeat, pounding under my hand.

What am I getting myself into?

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