Chapter 8 Stan #4
“You didn’t deserve any of that, Stan. The drugs. The brainwashing. The blame.”
I shake my head. “I should’ve been smarter.”
“No.” His thumbs swipe at my tears, and my whole body gets hot from the touch. “You should’ve been protected by your parents.”
A laugh slips outta me, broken and wet. “You’re really messing me up here, y’know.”
Nil’s mouth twitches. “You’re messing me up too.”
“Oh, yeah?” My voice cracks embarrassingly, but whatever, I’m already hideous sobbing. “How messed up are we talking here? Like run away from me messed up, or stay anyway messed up?”
Nil’s eyes dip to my mouth. “What do you think, Stan?”
His hand moves to hold the side of my neck, sending sparks down my spine. I know he can feel my pulse. I know it’s going insane. “Ocean Eyes,” I whisper. “If you keep touching me like that, I’m gonna do something stupid.”
“Like what?” he asks, his hooded eyes pointed at me.
I have no idea how I’m still alive. “Like kiss you,” I breathe out.
He leans closer. His mouth almost touches mine. “Stan,” he whispers, “that doesn’t sound stupid.”
My hands slide up to his wrists, holding onto him like the lifeline he really is to me.
When I needed someone, he was there. When we first met in September after I broke my own heart.
When we spent days away from the world for a while.
When I invited him back to the bunker in October.
Even when he was in a hospital bed for all those months after.
I clench my eyes closed. Pretty sure my shirt’s damp from tears.
But when I hear Nil whisper for me to look at him again, I blink my eyes open.
The gym disappears. The mirrors disappear. Everything disappears except him and his mouth hovering so close to mine I can feel the shape of his lips.
His hand slides a little higher on my neck. I swear he can feel every bit of panic hammering under my skin, because his thumb caresses me so slow, it’s almost torture.
“Stan,” he says. “If we kiss, you should know I’m not going anywhere after.”
My brain melts. Fully melts. I’m pudding. Human flan.
“I mean it.” He inches in even closer. His nose bumps mine. “I don’t want this to be something you take back later.”
“I won’t take anything back,” I whisper. “Ever.”
His eyes go down to my mouth again. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m gonna let out a sound so desperate I’ll never recover socially.
Then he tilts his head a little. I’m breathing wrong. That’s not fair ‘cause he’s breathing right.
I want to kiss him so bad, it’s borderline insane.
“Nil,” I whisper, because I need him to know. “I want this.”
He leans in until our lips brush. The heat off him hits me so hard. I think I stop breathing. Maybe I’m dead. Can’t be sure. Hard to understand reality when your entire life is about to tilt into something you never thought you’d get.
Then he closes the space between us.
His lips meet mine completely.
My spine jolts like a live wire.
His mouth’s warm and soft, better than any daydream. All careful at first, way too careful, like he’s checking if I’ll break. Joke’s on him. I broke ages ago. But he keeps finding ways to fix me.
I kiss him back instantly. Probably way too eager, but I don’t care.
I grab his shirt and pull him closer. My body has no patience left. My mind’s made up. My heart wants more than it ever has, now that he’s finally kissing me.
Nil makes this sound in his throat, and then the kiss stops being careful.
It gets hungry.
He cups my face hard enough that I feel it in my bones. I kiss him like I’m trying to breathe through him. It’s messy and hot and completely perfect.
I don’t know where my hands go until I feel his heartbeat under my fingers.
I don’t know when I end up half in his lap.
I don’t know why the mirrors aren’t scaring me anymore.
Maybe because he’s touching me. Maybe because this whole ship could sink into the Red Sea right now, and I wouldn’t give a fuck. As long as I’m kissing him.
A noise I’ve never made before leaves my throat. He swallows it like it belongs to him. My head switches angles. His fingers slide into my hair.
He deepens the kiss, then pulls back slowly.
We only break apart so we don’t pass out. Even then, I wouldn’t mind.
Nil touches my cheek with his thumb. “Stan.”
I smile. “Wanna do that again?”
Nil laughs, adorably breathless. “I really do.”
Then he kisses me again, and this one’s even worse. Or better. Or both. Honestly, I stop caring about words or thoughts altogether because his mouth is on mine.
And I kiss him back like I’ve been waiting for this since the day I met him. Which I have.
I grab the back of his neck, brushing his hair, and he groans right into my mouth.
Okay, yeah, that’s it. I’m done. Someone, call the captain. I’m a hazard to maritime safety now.
My other hand slips down because I need to touch him. More of him.
But the second my fingertips graze where his sweatpants tent up, Nil pulls back. He’s panting a little. His lips are so pink. His eyes look heavy-lidded, in a way that makes me want to kiss him stupid all over again.
“Stan,” he whispers. “We’re at the gym.”
“So? No one’s here.” I say, honest as hell. Hard as hell too. “No one ever comes here but us. I don’t even know when the others shower. I don’t wanna ask.”
Nil chuckles and places his hand on my chest. His palm’s so warm through my shirt, right over a tattoo I’d forgotten was there.
I’d care and overthink it, but his thumb moves. A gentle stroke I’m pretty sure counts as foreplay.
So I slide a hand into the waistband of his sweats, then a few inches below it, until I’m feeling his inches, with the impressive shape of him so hard in my hand.
His breath stutters. His lashes flutter. My cock throbs so damn desperate I almost moan.
“Ocean Eyes,” I whisper, moving in closer to prove my point. “I want more of you.”
“You can’t say things like that,” he snaps.
“Huh,” I say. “What should I say then? How big and thick your d—”
“Stan.” Nil’s face goes red.
“What? I’m being respectful. I haven’t even said anything about wanting to lick your long c—”
“Stan. Please.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “You like it when I talk dirty.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You totally do.”
“Stan—”
But I don’t let him finish because I kiss him again, slow this time, just to see how he reacts when I stop being filthy and start being gentle.
He melts into me. His hands slide up my arms. His lips move against mine with this unhurried pressure that guts me worse than the hungry kisses he gave me earlier.
It’s everything I wish I had the words to tell him I want, and everything I didn’t think I ever deserved.
I grab him by the collar, and he falls back on the bench. I follow him down and grind hard against him.
He groans into our kiss, and I part his lips with my tongue.
“Stan…” he sounds like he’s trying to say more.
“Too tasty to stop,” I mumble against his mouth.
“We’ll break this bench.”
“Okay, so bed?”
“Bed,” he agrees, chuckling as I stand up and take him with me.
Nil barely has time to get his balance before I’m hauling him upright. He’s breathing hard. His cheeks are flushed. He’s so cute. So sexy. So hot.
He’s…perfect. I’m screwed. Or going to get screwed. Either way, it’s turning out to be a good day.
We stumble toward the door together. Well, I stumble. Nil tries to be the stable one, which is adorable, because the second my hand drags down his hip, he nearly walks into a stationary bike. “Careful,” I say, grinning.
He tries to glare, but his lips pull up. His hand shoots out, grabbing a fistful of my shirt. He yanks me right back into a kiss that ruins us on our way to our room.