74
Valentina
The only time I leave Huxley alone once we get to his apartment is so I can change into something to sleep in. And even then, I wanted to leave the bathroom door open.
Despite the week I spent away from him and everything that happened between us, I can’t deny how scared he was at the airport. Or how much it crushed my heart to see him cry.
But then there’s the other side of all that. Even though he was scared, I can’t just ignore everything that we went through. I want to forgive him, but there’s so much that needs to be fixed before we get there.
I come out of the bathroom and find him sitting on the edge of his bed, almost exactly how he was at the airport; elbows on his knees, hand in his hair, pulling just enough to make my own head hurt.
Once again, my heart squeezes in my chest. But I push that to the back of my mind and tiptoe up to him, gently pulling his chin up to look at me. His eyes hit mine, still distraught from the airport, and maybe even a little from this past week.
He wraps his hands around the back of my bare thighs, gripping me until I move closer to stand between his legs. Our eyes stay locked as my fingers softly brush through his hair. We haven’t spoken since the airport, but that was because he was crying.
I don’t know if he’s ready to talk yet. Hell, I don’t know if I’m ready to talk yet either. So I just let my hand wander down to his shoulder.
I trace the dark lines of a tattoo, moving down slowly until I reach a seemingly random one on his chest.
“Do your tattoos have meanings?” I ask quietly, hoping not to break our delicate moment.
He nods, his eyes still on me. “Yeah.”
I focus on his tattoo to pretend I didn’t hear the scratchiness of his voice. “What does this one mean?”
Huxley reluctantly looks away from me to glance at the tattoo I’m tracing. He chuckles softly and places his hand over mine.
“Hazel wanted a tattoo for her 16th birthday. And I told her she could only get one if I approved, since I would be the one taking her to get it. After she picked one out and I said it was okay, she wanted to pick one out for me.”
“And she chose the number 49?”
He shrugs. “Apparently, while she was trying to pick one, a football game was on. I never really watched football, and she didn’t understand the sport. But the 49ers were playing, and they won the game. So that was her pick. 49.”
I shake my head. “Why, though?”
“To have something random, I guess.”
I nod and trace over the numbers again. It’s still strange to get a tattoo of a team you don’t even follow, but it’s also adorable that he got whatever his sister picked out, no question. A sport he doesn’t even follow and a team that’s nowhere near—
My hand freezes on his chest.
JJ mentioned the 49ers when he tried to teach me and Will about football. And his reason…
I swallow a lump in my throat and kneel in front of Huxley. He frowns as he follows me with his eyes. I offer him a reassuring smile. “You want to hear something crazy?”
He nods slowly. “Sure.”
I trace the number on his chest again. “I was born in San Francisco. And my birthday is April,” I trace over the four and then the number nine, “9th.”
Huxley’s eyes are wide when I look at him again, and they follow me as I stand back up. “I guess, maybe you were just always meant to find me.”
Slowly, his hands slide up to my waist, pulling me forward. Without any hesitation, I easily straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“You are literally etched across my heart, Valentina Demarco.” My breath hitches, causing his eyes to fall to my lips. “How have I not kissed you yet?”
I bring my hand forward slowly to gently trace his lips. “You were too worried.”
“I also didn’t know if I could.”
My eyes jump back up to his. The fear from earlier is back, but the meaning behind it is different. I guess we’ve put this off long enough.
Swallowing my fears, I grab his face with both hands. “All right. Listen to me carefully.”
Huxley tenses under me, his hands gripping my waist tighter. Which is good for me, because I feel wildly unsteady right now.
“We have,” I glance at the clock on his bedside table, “33 more hours left in our consecutive time. Which means, I’m giving you 33 hours to make me forget everything that happened on the trip between the two of us. Okay?”
He swallows roughly, his eyes searching mine. “What if I can’t do it?” he whispers.
I move one hand back into his hair, gently twirling a piece with my fingers. “Then I’m calling it off.”
“Valentina—”
“I’m serious, Huxley,” I barely breathe out. “Everything that happened on that trip…” I shake my head to try to forget and shove away the memories that threaten to break through. “It hurt too much.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Love.”
I nod over and over. “I know.” My fingers brush through his hair again. “So make me forget.” Then I pull it back. “And kiss me.”
We meld together like we’ve never been apart.
Huxley lifts me up and lays me on the bed, crawling over me. His lips trail down to my neck, leaving soft kisses that calm me and remind me of all the good times we’ve had. The times he made me feel special, wanted, loved. Then he bites my neck, drawing a whimper from my throat.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he says in that low voice that makes me lose my mind.
His lips leave a trail down my neck and start moving to my chest, kissing me through my shirt. Even without the skin-to-skin contact, my body still can’t handle where he’s moving to.
I gasp. “Hux.”
Huxley lifts his head, staring at me with amusement and confusion mixing in his eyes. “Did you just call me Hux?”
“Do you not like it?” Fear rises but fades fast when he smiles.
“I fucking love it.” His lips find mine again. Rough and desperate, my favorite kind of kiss. The kind that shows possession and fear. A combination you wouldn’t think works, but it keeps me in his arms every time.
Before Huxley can move his kiss down my neck again, I push him back.
“What’s wrong?”
I stare up at him, the fear coming back into his eyes. Should I even be doing this? No. That’s the truth. I shouldn’t be doing this. But I want to forget. I want to start over. And maybe we can.
“You’ve heard me,” I tell him. “Over the phone, I mean.”
He groans. “Jesus, don’t remind me.”
I nod to give myself some courage. “So I want to give you a little bit more in person.”
He frowns, but doesn’t protest as I push him off of me.
I sit up next to him and take a deep breath, pulling together all the strength I need to get us to this point.
In one fluid motion, I pull my shirt over my head so I’m only wearing a bra and shorts.
I look back at him and catch his eyes moving over me, taking me in.
“Whatever’s exposed.”
His eyes jump to mine. “Valentina, almost your whole body is exposed.”
“I know.”
We stare at each other in silence for a moment before Huxley blows out a deep breath. His eyes slowly fall over all the newly exposed skin, making my heart rate scream in my chest.
“Valentine.” His voice is calm and steady.
“Yes?” Mine is not.
His eyes slowly make their way back to mine, heated with a new desire I've never seen before. “I’m going to make your body mine.”
I barely have time to process his words before his lips are on mine again, releasing a whimper of need from me. The next thing I know, I’m on my back in the middle of his bed as his lips quickly move down to the exposed skin on my chest, claiming and marking every inch he can.
He kisses right between my breasts before moving down below my bra. Gentle bite marks are left on my stomach, making me squirm under his touch. I feel him smirk against my skin before he goes back over the marks, either by licking or kissing the sensitive areas.
How am I so affected by his lips on my skin? He’s not even in areas that are classified as sexual, and yet my body feels like it’s on fire from the delicate brush of his lips. And when I think I’ve already had too much, he moves lower.
His lips trail a line just above the waistline of my shorts, which raises my heart rate and turns my breathing into an erratic mess.
It doesn’t help that while he kisses this area of my body, his hands are also all over my thighs.
Gripping, rubbing, and all around driving me insane while his rough hands play with my soft skin.
In my lust-filled haze, I don’t notice he’s going even further on my body until I feel his lips press on the inside of my thigh right below the hem of my shorts. Never before have I thought about someone’s mouth between my legs, but now that Huxley is so close, I’m nearly begging for it.
A whiny moan leaves me when he presses another kiss in the same spot on the opposite thigh.
“God,” Huxley groans against my skin. “That sound in person is something else entirely.”
I can’t say anything back because my body is trembling too much. Too high on this feeling. Too lost in his touch.
Huxley continues to kiss my thighs and down my legs before making his way back up. This time, though, he bites the inside of my thigh, making me cry out in pleasure. I try to press my legs together, but his firm hold keeps them apart. I whimper as the place between my legs starts to throb harder.
“No. I need more. God.” My head falls back while my body writhes.
“What do you need, Love?” he asks in a voice so deep I’m surprised I don’t lose myself from that alone.
I reach down for him. “Come here. Come here,” I beg.
Huxley lies next to me, waiting for more instructions. “Give me your hand.” He holds up his hand, and I grab his wrist, moving him towards my shorts.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Huxley tenses his arm so I can’t move it anymore. “What are you doing?”
I’m out of breath and on the edge of release. I shouldn’t let him touch me, but I need his touch. I need him to finish what he started.
“I told you I’d let you touch me when I got back.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, though?”