CHAPTER 44 – ANTONIO
Maria pulls over in Caspian’s driveway. I step out of the car in a huff, cheeks flaming. My sister is a menace. She talked about safe sex as if I was a clueless teenager who would eat the sex ed banana instead of putting a condom on it.
My stomach dives when I see the front door open. Caspian is already waiting for me. He leans against the doorframe now, graceful and gorgeous.
“Hey,” he says. One word and my knees almost betray me.
“Hey. Hi. Um.”
I stand there clutching my groceries, failing to function. The memory of our kiss sends sparks all the way to my fingertips. I’ve been thinking about it so much. Guinness World Records level of reliving the moment.
Our first date was so perfect that I’m terrified to have another one. I want it too much. The more I want it—and all the dates after—the more scared I become.
I live a very quiet life. I don’t party, I don’t have a hobby, and I don’t socialize.
I read. I read for school and I read for fun. Caspian might have said on the beach that he finds it attractive, but the novelty will wear off.
The novelty of me will wear off.
He will realize I’m a yawn for a person and he will leave me.
“Hey,” he says again, gently prying the grocery bag from me. He sets it on the floor, then pulls me against his chest.
I breathe him in, trying to be discreet about it.
“I’ve never been this excited about a sandwich in my life,” he informs me. He looks serious.
“It’s an ordinary sandwich,” I mumble, my forehead resting against his chest.
“A phenomenal sandwich,” he says, brushing my cheek.
“Don’t say that. You’ll be disappointed. It’s a very boring sandwich, nothing special about it,” I explain in an embarrassing rush.
I pull away. “You’ll take one look at it and decide it’s not worth your time.”
He waits until I stop pacing in front of him like an emotionally fragile gladiator.
“That sandwich is turning my whole world upside down.”
Flustered, I march past him to his kitchen and start unloading my supplies on his spotless kitchen counter.
“You say that now, but you’ll change your mind,” I insist.
“I won’t.” He waits for me to look at him. His gaze pins me in place. “I’m very committed to this particular sandwich.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“In that case you’re even weirder than I thought,” I say, but I’m smiling now. “You are obsessed with bread.”
“I am, no doubt about it.”
He opens a separate fridge dedicated entirely to beverages.
“What are you drinking?”
I grab a soda. Our fingers brush, causing my entire nervous system to detonate, just like it did on the beach.
Not so long ago I wondered if I’d ever feel attraction.
Enter Caspian Stone.
“I could’ve picked you up,” he says, leaning against the counter and watching me work.
“You can drive me back,” I say, smiling shyly.
His face lights up.
When I offer him the finished sandwich, I’m nervous again.
He takes a bite and hums in satisfaction.
“This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” he declares.
I laugh, more relaxed now. “You’d say that anyway.”
“True,” he admits with a grin. “But I do mean it.”
He offers me a bite.
I decline, muttering something mortifying about my mom always making me eat before leaving the house.
He puts the plate away and takes a gulp of water, his eyes never once leaving my face. When he pulls me closer, tilting my chin, I’m shivering from the anticipation.
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
He waits, and a breathless, embarrassing yes-please escapes me. Then his mouth is on mine. The kiss is pure heat and hunger.
By the time he pulls back, I feel utterly, deliciously undone.
Caspian seems pretty affected too. He lets out a quiet curse as he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Everything alright?” he asks, clearing his voice.
I’m absolutely not alright. I’ve never been more alright.
“Yeah.”
Dazed, I wander to the living room and stumble to the couch.
“You want to watch something?” he asks, sitting down beside me.
“No,” I say, my voice oddly husky. I shuffle closer. “I want more of that.”
His breath hitches beautifully when I kiss him.
Without quite realizing what I’m doing, I’ve crawled into his lap, heart pounding. The sound he makes against my mouth goes straight through me.
I want him in ways I have never wanted another person, and the heavy pulse low in my body demands action. His hands fly to my waist, steadying me—just like I imagined in the car when I was ogling him.
I rock against him, tentatively at first, testing the friction, and it feels so good my eyes close in bliss.
My fingers slide into his hair, tugging. He groans, one hand on my hip with
his thumb stroking in slow, insufferably gentle circles, the other dragging down my spine.
I grind with more urgency, searching for that perfect angle that would give me the relief I want. But when I emit a sound I’ve never made before, a sort of feral growl, Caspian pulls back.
His eyes are clouded over, his breathing ragged.
“We need to slow down.”
I blink, absurdly offended, like he took away something that was already mine.
“But it felt good.”
He lets out a low, delighted laugh. “It really did.”
“So why stop? I don’t want to stop.”
I don’t even care that I sound whiny. Touching Caspian, having him touch me, feels out of this world good, and I’m not ready to let go of that.
He presses a soft kiss on my forehead.
“I don’t want to stop either, but that’s what we’re going to do.”
“But I want more,” I insist, wrapping my arms around his neck.
I do my best to look irresistible and seductive.
“Antonio.”
He sounds stern. I think I like his stern voice. My body certainly does.
I shift in his lap, and he lets out a soft groan.
“I want to give you everything you want, and I think you know that,” he says. Fireworks explode in my chest. I’m in so much trouble.
His fingers hook in the waistband of my jeans and he tugs, and for one fleeting moment I think I won.
Then he lifts me off him with infuriating ease and carefully sets me beside him. His thumb drags along my hipbone.
I pout. “This is not you giving me what I want. This is you doing the opposite.”
He laughs softly.
“Believe me, you’re getting everything you want,” he says in that low voice he clearly uses just to torment me. “But not tonight.”
He leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth, making me gasp.
“Also, I can’t help but feel you need to practice patience.”
My mouth opens. And closes. I narrow my eyes. He smiles. I scowl. He grins. I huff.
Then I lean against him, breathing him in.
I realize with terrifying clarity that I’m ruined.
Not by the kissing.
Not by the wanting.
But by him seeing me better than I see myself.