Chapter 16 #2
“Did she say yes?”
“She did. We dated almost my entire senior year. Sam was a junior. We actually had a lot of fun together. I took her to prom.”
Sully sucks in a breath. “Prom? For real?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. We got all dressed up, rented a limo, had a fancy dinner, the whole nine yards. God, it’s so cliché. I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but yeah. She definitely expected to lose her virginity that night. She was so ready. And me? I wasn’t entirely opposed.”
My cheeks are warm, heat spreading down my chest. I duck my face, hiding a bit. This story is so embarrassing. Sully waits, patient as ever.
“I genuinely liked her. And I was a teenage boy, you know, so the desire was there, but I also kind of didn’t want to? I mean, I knew I was gay. And as great at Sam was, I knew she wasn’t for me. But we managed.”
“Managed? That’s it?”
“You want the play-by-play?”
“Of course I do.”
“Weirdo. I’m not going into details, but it was awkward. Neither one of us had any experience. We figured it out. Virginity successfully lost, end of story.”
“No, but what happened after?”
“It’s not your turn anymore.” I poke his foot, teasing him just a bit.
“Come on, please?”
Why can’t I say no to him? “Fine. Nothing happened after. We stayed friends. She went to Europe with her family for the summer, and I went off to college in the fall. We never even officially broke up, so I guess technically, she’s still my girlfriend.”
He smacks me with a throw pillow. “Stop it.”
I have a feeling we can let the pretense of the game go now, and there’s something I want to know. Maybe it’s greedy of me. Selfish to ask. But he mentioned secrets, and I’m dying to unravel them. “Now that I’ve dropped that embarrassing story, it’s your turn.”
“I haven’t lost my virginity, Ru, so I can’t very well tell you about it.” He trails his gaze over me pointedly from head to toe and back. “Though…”
“No, I know. Or, I guess I assumed. I meant, tell me that secret you’re keeping.”
Sully’s flirty expression turns serious. He watches me for a long moment.
Maybe it’s too much.
Maybe he won’t answer.
Maybe I should take it back.
But then, he says, “I have two. And I will tell you one only after you’ve kissed all the sense out of me. Maybe even given me a good story of my own.”
A flare of desire seizes me fully. The look in his eyes declares his hunger. I want him, but this is a bad idea.
He rises and crawls to my lap. “Kiss me, Ru.”
My hands find his waist without my brain’s permission. Rather than wait, he kisses me himself, all soft lips, sweetly scented hair, and warm limbs.
I return the kiss.
Everything in me wants more, but I have to remind myself what Sully deserves. What will be possible for him after we’ve escaped. When he’s safe, and he can explore his desires at leisure with someone more appropriate.
Reluctantly, I break the kiss. “We shouldn’t. I’m ten years older than you.”
He stills, wet mouth parting. Then he tilts his head and narrows his gaze. “You’re five years older than me, and what does that have to do with anything?”
“Huh?” My mind blanks as he squirms against me in a way that’s extremely distracting. “Wait, we need to do the math. I’m twenty-nine.”
“Math. You’re serious?”
“Very.”
He huffs, and gathers my face in his hands. “I’m twenty-three and capable of basic subtraction.”
“That’s six years, not five.”
“True, but I rounded to five, which is far more accurate than ten. You rounded to ten. I win.”
“Why are we arguing about this?”
“You brought it up. So you tell me. I just want to kiss you some more, and then maybe take off your pants.”
This is how I die. From an overabundance of desire for a man I do not deserve. “Sullivan.”
“Sully,” he corrects, voice sharp. “Call me Sully. What am I doing wrong? Why don’t you want me?”
“I do, I swear I do.”
He frowns, hand moving from my face to my collar where he squeezes the fabric. “Then what’s the problem? I don’t understand.”
I can’t think with him this close. Touching me. Half in my lap, his thighs warm against mine. What’s so wrong about something we both clearly want?
Except. Does he want me?
“Sully, are you sure about this?” As I’m speaking, he opens his mouth to answer. “Wait. I’m asking because it’s important, okay? I need you to think about it. You haven’t met many people. There’s a whole world out there waiting for you. I’m just some guy. If—”
“I’ve heard enough.” By his fractious expression, he’s not amused. “You are not ‘just some guy’ to me. If you don’t want me, that’s one thing. But that’s not what you’re saying, is it?”
He pauses long enough for me to shake my head.
“It’s not what your body’s saying either.” Boldly, he palms my erection.
I let out a shaky breath.
“You’re afraid I don’t want you, but you’re wrong. Other people have told me what to do my entire life. Believe me when I tell you I’m ready to make my own decisions. And what I want, right now, on this couch, during this snow storm, is you.”
Oh. Maybe this is how I die.
Can a man die from getting exactly what he wants?
Because I’m about to find out.