Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
KIJA
Ican’t stop thinking about it.
The utter and absolute certainty that Sun had about me. From the beginning. I had known he had a crush, but I had no idea the level of commitment that he had to the idea that I was The One.
I don’t understand it. Truthfully, it even sounds a little bit crazy to know that he was in so deep for years without me, just waiting for me. That sort of dedication is overwhelming, if I really try to get my head around it.
But when I’m with him, I feel it. The magnetic draw—that staticky frequency of arousal and desire that crackles and pops between us. And I see it every time he looks at me. I can find it right there in his eyes—the lust simmering just above the affection.
Maybe it was just a physical reaction at first—for him and for me. I don’t really know. It’s more than that now. The attraction that I feel for him is different than anything I’ve ever felt before. Not because he’s a man, but for the simple fact that I want him.
I want to know him and let him know me. I want to keep him around me—with me.
I’ve never had a problem letting go of any of the women I’ve been with.
Even with the ones I liked the best, it was easy.
Moving on from him? I can already tell it would be difficult in a way that I’m not sure I would handle all that well.
I may never really know why he decided it was me that he wanted, but I’m glad he did. I’m glad his belief was enough to stick it out and hold on to hope.
Checking the time on my phone, I wonder if I should have done more to get ready for tonight.
He’s staying over again, and I’ve been looking forward to it since we made the plan a few days ago.
I like having him to myself like this, continuing to learn who he is on his own, outside of RYSING, but also who he is with me.
And who I am with him.
I’ve definitely had women refer to me as their boyfriend before, but I never felt like that was quite right. We were never that serious, maybe not even exclusive. I enjoyed their company and then we parted ways without much fuss.
So I’ve never really been here before.
Almost thirty and basically unsure how to navigate this type of romantic situation. Romantic relationship.
Part of the reason I invited him over was to try to figure out what we’re doing. If we need to put a label on it.
I think I might want to.
Maybe need to?
The doorbell rings and startles me a little, as does my next thought—that I should just give Sun the code so he can let himself in.
As soon as I open the door, Sun drops his bag, kicks off his shoes, and leaps into my arms, blindly trusting that I’ll catch him. I do, of course, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders and his legs around my hips, holding on tight as he presses his lips to mine.
I kick the door closed, carrying him from the entry way into the apartment without ever breaking to take a breath.
I’m gasping by the time I drop down onto the sofa with Sun settling on my thighs.
“I could get used to being greeted like that,” I tell him, panting as he nips and nibbles along my jawline before kissing me again.
He’s learned quickly, I think absently, like he’s been taking mental notes of everything I’ve told him I enjoy and then doing it to perfection.
“I missed you,” he says, his hands twisting in the fabric of my t-shirt like he wants to make sure he’s got a grip on me and I can’t go anywhere.
As if I would want to be anywhere else right now.
Sun wriggles in my lap, moving closer, and the negligible distance between us disappears. Draping his arms over my shoulders, he holds me so gently it seems to contradict the roughness of his kisses and the desperation of his tongue pushing past my lips.
I slip my hands around his hips, cupping the curve of his ass, and he whimpers into my mouth. If I could swallow that needy sound and keep it for myself, let it rattle around inside my head when I’m alone, I would never have to conjure up anything to fantasize about ever again.
“Can I kiss you forever?” Sun asks in a whisper when he breaks away reluctantly to take a breath. “Wanna kiss you forever.”
As he licks back into my mouth, it seems like a great idea to do this until the end of time.
To stay in this moment, making out like teenagers.
The teenager he never got to be. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to give him that—the thrill of sneaking off into dark corners or slouching down in the back of parked cars because those are the only options.
But we’re here in my apartment, the lights along the Han River bright in the window behind us, and it’s not quite the same, but I don’t mind.
I think he’s quite content with the situation as well, judging by the way he’s started to rock against me.
I can feel the taut lines of his body tensing with the subtle movements.
When he finally slides off me—only for the sake of breathing—and falls into a less-than-graceful heap on the couch, he looks debauched in a way I was not expecting yet.
My mouth waters with want at the sight of his mussed up hair, kiss-bitten lips, and the faint pink flush that reaches from his cheeks to beneath the collar of his shirt.
I have not been ready for anything that has happened with him—wholly unprepared for the way he has upended my life in a short time—but somehow I’m still surprised at every new thing that sends a jolt of desire through my body.
Sun stretches, slow and lazy, uncurling himself like a flower that’s blooming right in front of my eyes.
His shirt rides up, exposing a stretch of skin that I realize I can’t wait to get my hands on.
The hem is intentionally, artfully frayed, and it makes the magenta fabric look soft against the porcelain of his stomach.
I want to touch, so I do, reaching out to brush my fingertips over him, and he shivers, looking up at me with dark, pleading eyes, asking for more without saying a word.
He’s more casual than usual tonight, and the thought crosses my mind that I could probably yank off his clothes and he wouldn’t care if they got destroyed in the process.
Leaning over, I bow my head, lips trailing just above the waistband of his joggers. He squirms, whimpering as he tilts his hips up to encourage me to keep going. I don’t know what I’m doing, just that I can’t help myself. Are we there yet, though? Should we talk about this?
“Kija.”
His breathless sigh of my name has me biting at his hipbone, like that will distract me from how fucking sexy it sounded. The scrape of my teeth only makes it worse as Sun’s fingers tangle in my hair and pull just hard enough to make me gasp.
Sitting back up, I put some space between us because it seems necessary. At least for the moment.
Do I want to lay him out on this couch and get my hands all over him? Yes. Do I want his mouth on me again? Also yes.
But rational me still wins this round, because I get up and tug him to stand with me. We waddle like penguins into the kitchen after he drapes himself over me again and makes it impossible to walk normally. I will not admit to how hard I had to fight smiling at how silly and cute it was.
There’s still that damn strawberry soju in my fridge, and I know he’ll drink it. I get it out and grab two glasses from the cabinet, setting them down so I can turn the bottle upside down and swirl the drink, creating a tiny tornado of fruity alcohol.
“Oh, look at you showing off.” Sun laughs, even as he rolls his eyes. But that doesn’t stop him from taking a sip as soon as I’ve poured it. He watches closely as I decide against the second glass and drink straight from the green bottle, chugging far more of the sweet spirit than I would normally.
“I didn’t think you liked this?” he questions.
“I don’t,” I reply, letting him pull me closer by slipping his finger through the loop of the drawstring on my track pants. Rocking up on his tiptoes, he leans in to trace my lips with his tongue, then kisses me, slow and deep.
“You taste better without the soju,” he comments when he steps away, just far enough to be out of arm’s length.
I almost make a joke about being glad I don’t have to buy more of that awful strawberry stuff if that’s how he feels, but instead, I smirk and ask, “Yeah? What do I taste like?”
“Everything I’ve ever wanted,” Sun says, so easily it takes a second for the words to really register.
“Sun-ah. You can’t just…” I don’t even finish my sentence.
Instead, a strangled sort of noise dies in my throat as I move without thinking, needing to get him back in my space immediately.
I scoop him up by the back of his thighs and lift him up onto the island’s counter top so that we’re eye-to-eye.
He blinks at me, eyes all wide and innocent like he doesn’t know what he’s just done to me. “What? I can’t tell the truth?”
“No, I want the truth. I always want that,” I answer him.
Sweeping my fingers through his hair, I push it back off his forehead and just look at him.
So pretty, everything about him beautiful.
“But what are we doing here? Is this… Are we…” I’m flustered, which never used to happen but now feels pretty constant.
I want him, and I want him to tell me what this is.
What it means for him. For us. “What do you want, Sun?”
Sun sways towards me, his lips meeting mine in the softest, sweetest kiss—there and gone. “I want two things,” he says, pausing as I nod. “I want to be with you. I want us to be together, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s why I’m here. As your boyfriend.”
“Yes. Me too,” I agree, almost dizzy with relief. He’s my boyfriend. Ahn Yung-Sun is my boyfriend. Not wanting to get carried away in my thoughts and miss the second request, I prompt him, “What else? What’s the other thing?”
“I want you to fuck me.”