Chapter 14 #3
I blink, searching my memories of that night.
Avi and I in the corner of the pub. Everyone milling around us.
The electricity I could feel, pulsing between us.
And then him leaning in, our lips pressing together like it was fate.
Like it had always been that way. But then, a flicker of fear.
A moment of wondering what would happen, how it would all work with him being so far away.
The immediate, clear decision that it didn’t matter.
That it was what I’d wanted for a long time and we’d figure it out.
And I was about to say all this, once my brain got back into gear after one of the most head-spinning kisses of my life.
But what I saw as a momentary flinch, a momentary wavering, seemed to him like a rejection.
Then the confusion – him apologising, immediately.
Saying he’d had too much to drink. Leaving the party.
Then the text the next day. Telling me it was a mistake.
All of it now suddenly thrust into a new light.
I was convinced it was regret. That he crossed the line, then decided he didn’t want me.
But it turns out he thought it was the other way around.
‘And then you were telling me – rightly – that I’d risked our friendship.
That I should’ve thought more about what I was doing.
And you’re right. I should have. But I could see, in that moment, how much I’d hurt you.
And I thought I’d ruined it. That I’d fucked everything up and that I should just take myself out of the picture entirely. ’
I look down at my hands in my lap, hurt twisting in my chest. Realising as I look down that they’re still red – I’m still in the Morphsuit.
Oh, my God, I think. This is so embarrassing.
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation, dressed like this, probably looking completely unhinged.
But then I glance up and he’s gazing at me from across the room.
Eyes full of remorse and pain. And I’ve been trying to keep control.
To not lose it. But I lost control earlier – or, rather, I let go – and the world is spinning just as it was before.
The person in front of me, right now, looks incredibly sorry for what he’s done. Seems to genuinely want me around.
Maybe that’s enough.
‘I accept your apology,’ I say quietly, flicking my eyes up to his. Tracing the flecks of yellow in their dark brown.
‘Do you mean that?’ he asks, still looking like he’s not sure. But I realise in this moment that I do – I want a clean slate.
‘I do,’ I say, nodding. My heart thuds. And all I want to do, right now, is close the space between us and kiss him again. But something stops me.
He must sense the hesitation or see it on my face because he stands up and heads for the door. ‘I think my five minutes is up.’ he says, opening it. ‘I’ll leave you – give you some time to think.’
‘Avi,’ I say. ‘Wait.’ The only thing I know right now is that I can’t let him leave.
He turns and looks at me.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m standing too.
Crossing the room. Inches between us. And he freezes in place, as if he’s hardly daring to move.
Then slowly, awkwardly, I place my hand on his hip, my fingers grazing the fabric of his jacket.
I look up at him, my heart thudding at a thousand miles per hour.
And he looks down at me, his eyes burning with desire. With permission. And so I tilt my face upwards and press my lips against his. Like a prayer. And the final brick falls away from the wall I’ve built between us.
He leans in, deepening the kiss. His hand clenching around my waist, holding on for dear life as our bodies press together. My body flush against his as he pushes me against the door he just tried to leave through.
I kiss him again and he reaches behind me, looking at me for permission before gently pulling down the zip of my Morphsuit.
Pulling it down my shoulders. And when I’m out of it, he looks at me for a second with an expression that makes my heart thump in my chest. His eyes simultaneously fiery and almost disbelieving that this is really happening – everything I’m feeling in this moment too.
And then his lips crash against mine, hand running down my back.
Fingertips grazing against my skin as he unlatches my bra.
He kisses my neck and a shiver runs across my skin.
I undo the buttons of his shirt slowly and he lets it drop to the floor.
I take a second to slide my hand down the curve of his arm.
Taking in his form: strong, perfectly sculpted.
Then, as if he can’t wait any longer, he kisses me again and lifts me up, my legs hooking around him. Feeling how much he wants me.
He carries me to the bed and sets me gently on it. Brushing my hair away from my face in a gesture that is so tender and vulnerable I feel overwhelmed for a second.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ he asks, noticing my expression. I nod. ‘One hundred per cent?’ he says, a furrow appearing in his brow. And I pull him towards me. Tracing my hand down his back, feeling the dimples at the base of his spine. His back arching at the sensation.
And, in turn, his hands move down my body in a way that feels like small lightning flashes crackling across my skin. He pulls the elastic of my underwear gently down my legs, kissing the edge of my hipbone. Looks up at me, to which I nod infinitesimally, so turned on I can hardly breathe.
And then his tongue is there, moving across me, sending more small shocks through my body.
Pleasure building to a peak until I can’t stand it – I need more.
I run my hand down his back to get his attention, pulling him towards me.
Want burning through every cell of my body.
Finding his length – running my hand along it over the fabric of his trousers so he lets out a shaky breath.
‘Jesus, Lara,’ he says. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.’
‘I think there’s an uneven distribution of clothing here,’ I say, gesturing to his chinos, and he laughs.
I pull them off, slowly. Throw them and his Calvin Klein underwear to one side.
I take hold of his shaft and move my hand in a way that looks like it might be about to drive him completely insane.
‘You are something else,’ he says and pulls me down onto the bed, on top of him, kissing me like he can’t get enough. Like air doesn’t matter.
He grips my hip, his length sliding against me in a way that makes me feel insane.
And then he’s reaching for his trousers on the floor, opening his wallet.
Pulling out a condom. And something flickers – some wondering how long that’s been in there, who it might have been in there for.
But then he’s opening it with his teeth and I roll it over him, and he looks at me with such intensity it sets my skin on fire.
And then I’m gently sliding over his length, my breath catching in my throat with how good it feels.
And a second later he’s inside me and I’m on fire.
His hand reaches over to grasp the headboard behind me as he thrusts into me, his hips rising to meet mine as I grind over him, the sensation increasing until I’m almost blinded by it.
A vague thought that I can’t believe this is actually happening floating through my mind as I meet his thrusts with my own, angling my hips so his length slides into me further.
‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding like he’s about to lose control. The look on his face is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through my whole being.
He takes hold of me, his hands pressing into my skin, guiding me, slowly rising and falling, the sensation deliciously slow. And then he moves his thumb, circling me. Reaching up with his other hand to gently caress my breast, flicking his hand over my nipple and driving me slowly insane.
‘Avi,’ I whisper, as the sensation rises to its peak.
And in this moment, something lifts, some weight I’ve been carrying for the last few weeks.
I feel free to let go of all my anxieties, all the pain and worries I’ve been holding on to.
They all seem to float away, disappearing into a feeling of bliss that comes over me in waves.
And a few seconds later, he moves his hands back to my hips, his grip tightening with his final few thrusts, everything in me on fire as he surges into me and lets go too.
A deep moan, his whole body shivering. And then he pulls me close, holding me to him for a few seconds.
Our bodies pressed against one another. He kisses my shoulder, then rolls to one side, looking up at the ceiling.
‘Lara Francis,’ he says, breathless. ‘I think you might be the death of me.’