Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sally
Heat and passion.
I’ve learned not to expect that when kissing someone.
Kissing?
I don’t think this can be considered kissing anymore. Oliver’s mouth melds to mine as his teeth gnaw on my bottom lip with a growl. He drags a breathy moan from me. My lips part open to let out the sound, but Oliver’s tongue quickly breaks through and pushes against mine for dominance.
I grab at his bicep as it flexes under my touch. Oliver groans, “Sally.”
Wave after wave of pleasure sparks through me with every push of his mouth onto mine. Would it be cliche to say it feels like fireworks popping off against my skin? The pain and gratification come together in a storm that I can’t even tell which is which.
His hands trail down my back. I can feel the heat of his fingertips gripping into my skin.
They find their way to my ass, giving it a tight squeeze.
I groan with the added pressure as he pulls away, gazing down at me with molten eyes.
He looks like he wants to take me here and now, and honestly, if he asked, I’d let him.
The sensation of his fingers digging into my hips causes my head to turn blank.
His fingers shift from my ass to behind my thighs, and he lifts me up off the ground.
Without thinking, I wrap my legs around him, pushing my skirt all the way up.
Normally, I would be so scared of him feeling every part of me, but I want him to explore my body from head to toe.
He hitches me up further, making sure to continue to devour my mouth as he walks to someplace I don’t care about. I weave my fingers through his thick hair. My back presses up against the sliding glass before he messes with the door, and we find ourselves surrounded by my childhood bedroom.
If he’s thrown off by the familiarity, he doesn’t show it because, without hesitation, I’m thrown onto the bed, and he shuts the door. He looks over at me with an intense desire and lust that matches the same explosive energy that has consumed my very essence.
We meld together as the bed creaks with every shift of weight. Oliver places kiss after kiss from my mouth to my cheeks and down my neck. Every burning kiss pulls out a moan from my throat, which causes him to bite down even harder on my skin.
Oliver hovers above me, wrapping his arms around me and pulls us together. Zero space exists between our bodies. We tangle together as he places his knee between my legs, spreading them apart.
“God, I love the way you taste.” He bites at my neck again, and shocks of pleasure surge from the site. “Every inch of your body is perfect.”
Arousal fills every crevice of my body. Heat and pressure pool between my legs, and reality crashes into my fantasy.
His hands reach the hem of my shirt, letting his finger play with my skin underneath.
He doesn’t know.
I still as he continues to reach up into my shirt. Goosebumps form along the trail of his fingers.
He must have noticed some sort of expression on my face because his hands freeze midway up my stomach. “Do you want to stop?”
My gaze meets his, and even in the darkness of the room, I see the evident concern burning in his eyes. I want to shake my head and pretend that I’m just any old girl who doesn’t need to worry about her body when she’s with a man who makes her feel sparks.
Fear stings my eyes as I turn away from him. I can’t look at him when he doesn’t know who I am.
I won’t be able to handle him looking at me with disdain.
I suddenly feel too hot and caged under Oliver’s stare, and his body still pressed against me.
“I’m sorry.” I pull away from him and slip out from under his build. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
My breath labors as I press my back into the corner of the room, hoping to become as small as possible.
He’s going to hate me.
The bed creaks again as Oliver leaps across the room to stand in front of me. His look of concern now reads as pain, not because he’s been hit, but because he doesn’t understand my freak-out.
I’m hurting him.
I pin my gaze to the ground because looking at him also hurts me. My palms cover my head. Hair spills over to hide me away from him. I whisper into my hands, “I’m sorry.”
Nothing happens for a moment. I don’t hear him moving around the room. Maybe he already walked out while my mind was in a whirl. Can’t blame him, really. This isn’t the first time I’ve freaked out on him. A person can only take so much.
I’m too much.
Then, I hear a small sigh. The heat from his breath hits my hands. A shiver runs down my spine all the way to the balls of my feet. I didn’t realize all the heat from before had vanished. The room now feels cool, even though I know the AC isn’t running. I’m ice cold.
“Sally.” Another breath hits my hands. His clothes shift and warm fingers grasp my wrists, pulling them away from my face. I expect pain to come from his grip, but nothing. He’s handling me like a feather. “Please, look at me.”
I shake my head and keep looking at his shoes. I guess he didn’t take them off before we threw ourselves on the bed.
A second later, one of his hands lets go of my wrist and places itself gently under my chin. I should fight, but the minute he touches me, everything caves in. I have no fight.
This has to end. I guess it is better to end it all before he invades my life more, and then I won’t want to let him go.
My head lifts with his hand, and our eyes meet. He lets out a breath. The concern is still present, but there’s a mix of relief in there. I’m no longer fighting against his motion, and the thought of throwing myself into his arms is almost too strong to bear.
I need to do this for both of us. It just might hurt like a bitch.
The opposite is also true. He could accept me fully, but I fight the thought. If I give myself hope, then the likely outcome will hurt worse than I can even imagine.
His hand leaves my chin, and he runs a soft thumb across my cheek. He isn’t wiping away a tear; I know that. But it means he wants to comfort me. The tension weighing heavy on my shoulders collapses to the floor. I take a breath.
“Oliver, I need to tell you something,” I say shakily, but I know he hears me. His expression morphs into intense focus. “I’m trans.”
It’s out.
I open my mouth to tell him everything, but nothing comes out.
I’m already spiraling, and the words might just come out a jumbled mess.
I’m still not ready to tell him everything.
I’m not ready to make this all a reality, one where we are back at the start with no idea how to move forward.
Forming an attachment to this place is the worst idea, maybe even worse than what’s happening before me.
I could fall to the floor, but Oliver was still holding my face with one hand and my wrist with the other.
The wait for an answer is killing me, but I can’t take my gaze away from him. Oliver knits his brow together before looking over my body for a second.
I’m not even sure Oliver knows what a trans woman is. I’ve explained the very concept of being trans to people too many times to be happy about it.
Oliver’s expression doesn’t change. He holds the same level of focus as his eyes rake over every little feature of my face.
Is he looking for any chance that I was joking?
He nods before taking his hand away from my cheek. This is when he walks away, and I’m left all alone.
Before I can even react, he threads his fingers through the hair at the back of my head and pulls me forward, crashing his lips to mine.
I kiss him back as his mouth devours mine further. His spare arm lets go of my wrist, wraps itself around my waist, and pulls me into his body. I don’t know what to do with my hands, so they find their way around his neck.
My feet slightly lift off the floor. All that touches the carpet are my toes, but all my weight fades. Oliver is practically lifting me, with no problem, with just one powerful arm around me.
His tongue glides over my lips. My mouth parts slightly at the presence, and he pushes the rest into my mouth.
A moan erupts from me. I shudder against his embrace, my breasts pushing into his chest now. A growl leaves his lips, causing me to shudder again.
“Oliver,” I pant against him as he breaks our contact and kisses the corner of my mouth and jawline.
He makes his way down, trailing kisses and heat down to my neck. Every place he kisses leaves me wanting his mouth to remain there forever. Oliver attacks my neck with an open kiss, sinking his teeth into my flesh.
I let out a gasp that turns into a throaty moan, vibrating my neck against his mouth. “Oliver…what are you…doing?”
He removes himself from my throat, almost getting a protest from me before I realize I asked him a question. His head remains at the crook of my neck, his lips mere inches away.
The urge to tell him never mind and to continue yells in my mind.
Have a little self-control, Sally.
“I’m kissing a pretty girl.” My mind goes blank as he places a little peck, unlike the bites he gave before. “What are you doing?”
This time, he turns his head and looks up. With a quick motion, his face leaves my neck, and he places his forehead flush against mine. “Do you want to stop?”
I quickly shake my head. “I’m just confused because I just told you I’m trans, and you don’t even have questions.”
Oliver drags his eyes over me again before catching my lips in another kiss.
I try to deepen it, but he pulls away, letting go of my waist. I almost feel sad until his hand reaches for mine, and he tugs us both to the bed.
Without thought, he plops down on the bed, causing the little thing to nearly cave under his weight.
He pulls me down right beside him. Oliver purses his lips before he pulls me onto his lap.
I bite back a yelp, remembering I’m not the only one in the house. Leon is down the hall on the couch. Heat creeps to my neck at the thought of him hearing my moans from earlier.
“Better.” He grins at me sheepishly.
“Oliver,” I plead.
Oliver lets out a laugh before he tightens his hold around my waist. Compared to his muscular build, I feel like a twig in his hold.
“Of course, I have questions, but I deemed them not as important as kissing you.”
I gape at him.
“I’m not gonna lie. I don’t know a lot about any of this. You might be the first trans person I’ve met, but you aren’t the first person I’ve met that’s a part of the LGBTQ+ community.”
I let out a small chuckle. “That’s reassuring.”
“Is it?” he questions.
“Yeah,” I say as I rotate my hips, trying to get comfortable on his lap.
Oliver lets out a groan. “Princess, if you keep wiggling that ass of yours, I’m gonna die.”
I stare at him with wide eyes, not even realizing his length pressing up against my leg. Heat begins to pool in my body as I stare at it. Oliver lets out a growl.
“Do you still want to talk about it, Sal?” He knows I would rather strip him naked, but this conversation needs to happen.
“Are you really okay with all of this?” I instinctively motion over my body.
Oliver frowns, not doing a once-over again like he did before. This time, he holds my stare before shaking his head. He grabs my hand and places it directly on his bulge. “I’m pretty sure my dick wouldn’t be trying to lodge itself into your thigh if I wasn’t okay with all of you.”
Emotions start to well up behind my eyes.
“Shit! Did I say something wrong?” He quickly takes his hand away from mine. “I’m sorry, Sall—”
I cut him off with a peck on the lips and wrap my arms around his neck. Now, instead of sitting sideways, I’m straddling his lap. It only takes me a second to realize his cock is now pressed up against my tuck.
Shame pricks at my fingers again as I draw away from him, but his arms wrap tighter around me, pulling me back into his embrace.
“Please don’t pull away from me again.” He sounds scared, like I’m gonna run for a second time.
I almost did until he surprised me.
“If I cross a line, call me out,” he says. “I don’t care if I’m in a conversation with someone else, or walking away, or even if there’s something I’ve said up until now. Call me out.”
I really don’t want to cry, especially when the widest smile I’ve held in a while might just break my face in half.
“I know you’re quiet and like to make yourself smaller when confronting people, but you will never be small to me. I’ll always lift you up.”
I pull him into another kiss. A chaste kiss, gentle and kind, unlike the devouring that took place not even three feet from us against the door.
“I can do that,” I say.
“That’s my girl.” He grins. “I’m glad you told me because I’ve heard how scary it can be to tell people about everything. I’m also glad because I don’t really know the first thing about taking care of you.”
“You don’t have to take care of me, Oliver.” I let out a small yawn, all the adrenaline from before evaporating as the night simmers down.
“Bedtime?”
“Probably.” I try to hold in another yawn, but it breaks out. I look around the room, seeing that Oliver actually brought in my purse that I let go of when he yanked me into that first kiss.
“Let’s tuck you in.”
“Can you spend the night?” I bite my lip, feeling like a schoolgirl. This isn’t the first time I’ve slept in the same bed as a guy.
He grins, and my stomach flutters. I feel the need to throw myself at him again, but sleep is calling for me.
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”