Chapter 16 #3
“Can we?” She looked up at me. “Because I almost broke down today when he was questioning us. I wanted to just tell him everything.”
“But you didn't. You were amazing.” I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “We just need to make it to Halloween, through the Westpoint game, and then we come clean.”
She nodded, then shifted to face me fully, her hands coming up to cup my face. “Derek?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't want to wait anymore.” Her eyes were intense, vulnerable, and determined all at once. “Not for this. Not for us.”
My heart stuttered. “Rosie, we don't have to...”
“I know we don't have to. I want to.” She kissed me softly. “Today reminded me that nothing is guaranteed. That we could get caught tomorrow, or next week, and I don't want to have regrets. I don't want to wish I'd been braver.”
I searched her face, making sure this was really what she wanted. “Are you sure?”
“I've never been surer of anything.” Her thumb traced my jawline. “I love you. And I want this. I want you.”
I kissed her then, deeper than before, pouring everything I felt into it. She responded immediately, her hands sliding into my hair as she pressed closer.
“I love you,” I murmured against her lips. “So much.” She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, and I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We'll go slow. And if you change your mind at any point...”
“I won't.” But her voice trembled slightly, nervous energy mixing with desire.
I stood and pulled her up with me, leading her to the worn couch in the corner. The studio suddenly felt sacred, this space that had been ours from the beginning, where we'd shared music and secrets and our first real kiss.
“Come here,” I whispered, sitting down and guiding her onto my lap so she straddled me.
She settled against me, and I could feel her heart racing as fast as mine. My hands found her waist, slipping under her shirt to touch bare skin. She gasped at the contact.
“Okay?” I asked.
“More than okay.” She kissed me again, less tentative now, more demanding.
We took our time, learning from each other slowly. Every touch, every kiss felt monumental. Her shirt came off, then mine. I mapped every inch of her skin with my hands and mouth, committing her sighs and shivers to memory.
“Derek,” she breathed as I kissed down her neck. “I need... I want...”
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
“You. All of you.” Her hands fumbled with my belt, and I helped her, then took care of the rest of our clothes with reverent slowness, kissing every newly exposed skin, making sure she was a panting mess.
When there was nothing left between us, I paused, making sure she saw how much this meant to me. “You're everything to me, Rosie. You know that, right?”
“I know.” She smiled, that beautiful smile that had first made me fall for her. “Show me.”
I reached for the discarded condom next to me and, ripping the foil open, I rolled it on myself. The heat of her gaze followed my every move as I covered my length.
Looking up, I saw her swallow at the size of me, but I didn’t want her to feel any fear.
“Don’t worry, Thorn. I’ll go slow.”
Rosie nodded with a shy grin. “I’m more excited than nervous. I imagined this moment a thousand times.”
Maybe it should have been more special, in an actual bed, with roses and fancy dinner. But she wasn’t one of those material girls for whom those things mattered. What mattered for us was the emotional connection that we formed over the course of the past year.
And since I couldn’t shower her with real gifts, I showered her with my attention, care, and love.
With gentle hands and whispered words, making sure she felt cherished, loved, and safe. I entered her with more care than I had ever given anyone before. I paid attention to all her small gasps and the way she tensed up.
My lips didn’t leave her body, trailing kisses on her chest, neck, and face while watching all her reactions.
When she tensed, I slowed down. When she urged me on, I followed her lead. It was awkward and sweet and perfect in all the ways that mattered.
She squeezed me so tight, it took all my self-control not to mess this up and come within the first seconds. I really wanted to make it last for her and for myself.
It might have been Rosie’s first time, but it was my first time with a girl since my injury. And it felt like a big step for both of us.
The sounds of our bodies moving against each other filled the studio as soft moans echoed through the mirrored room. I wished I could see us all intertwined, but I knew there would be more time.
“I've got you,” I murmured as she held onto me tightly, her breath coming in quick gasps. “I've always got you.”
“I know,” she nodded, her face buried into my neck. “I trust you.”
We moved in unison; Rosie’s moans grew louder as she lost control under me. I’ve never felt more at peace when she trembled in my arms and climaxed, her beautiful face lighting up with pleasure only I could cause her.
I followed shortly after her, coming with a loud groan before collapsing on top of her, but my mouth never left her skin. She tasted salty from the slight sweat we worked up, and she never looked more perfect, with her hair messy around her, lips swollen, and cheeks flushed.
She was perfect.
And mine.
Afterward, we lay tangled together on the narrow couch, her head on my chest, my arms wrapped around her like I could protect her from everything waiting outside this room.
“No regrets?” I asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Not even one.” She tilted her head up to look at me, her eyes soft and satisfied. “That was... You were...”
“You were perfect,” I finished for her. “Are perfect.”
She blushed, hiding her face against my neck. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Thorn.” I held her tighter. “No matter what happens with Aaron, no matter how hard this gets, this is real. We're real.”
“We're real,” she echoed, and I felt her smile against my skin.
We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, pretending the outside world didn't exist. But eventually, reality crept back in. She needed to get home before Aaron noticed she was gone. I had early practice in the morning.
As we got dressed, stealing kisses between pulling on clothes, the weight of our secret felt different now. Heavier, yes, but also more worth protecting.
“After Westpoint,” she said again, like a promise.
“After Westpoint,” I agreed. “We tell him everything.”
She kissed me one more time at the door, long and deep, like she was memorizing the taste of me.
“See you tomorrow,” she whispered. “Where we have to pretend we're just friends.”
“Just a few more weeks,” I promised, though each word tasted like a lie.
Because after tonight, after what we'd just shared, there was no pretending anymore. Not really.
We'd crossed the final line, and there was absolutely no going back.