“You want me to do it again?” I whisper.
I want her to beg me to do it again, but she shakes her head no. She’s breathing twice as fast as she was sixty seconds ago, so I know I’m getting to her. I laugh that she’s so adamantly shaking her head no, while at the same time clenching the sheet next to her with her fist. I move closer to her mouth because I suddenly have an overwhelming need to take in some of the breaths she’s wasting. It feels like I need them more than she does right now, so I inhale at the same time my lips meet her cheek. I don’t stop there, though. I can’t stop there. I continue to trail kisses from her cheek, down to her ear. I pause and catch my breath enough to speak in a steady voice. “How about that?”
Again, she stubbornly shakes her head, but tilts it back and slightly to the left, allowing me better access. I lift my hand from the bed and bring it to her waist, keeping my eyes trained on her as I slip my hand under her shirt, just far enough to graze her stomach with my thumb. I watch for any kind of reaction from her, but she’s got a stern, tight-lipped expression on her face now, like she’s trying to hold her breath. I don’t want her to hold her breath. I need to hear her breathe.
When I drop my mouth and nose to her jawline, she releases her pent-up breaths just like I was hoping she would. I trail my nose across her jaw, inhaling the scent of her, then move down, listening intently to every single gasp that escapes her lips as if they’re the last sounds I’ll ever hear. When I reach her ear, four of my senses are in overdrive and one is seriously lacking—taste. I know I can’t taste her mouth tonight, but I have got to taste at least one part of her. I press my lips to her ear and she immediately brings her hand up to my neck, pulling me in deeper. Feeling her need my mouth against her skin rips my chest wide open and I completely give in, wanting to feel that need from her even more. I immediately part my lips and glide my tongue across her skin, taking in the sweetness of her and locking it in my memory. I’ve never tasted anything that rivaled perfection like she does.
Then she moans and holy hell. Everything I thought I previously knew about my desires or wants or needs becomes lost in that sound. From this point forward, my new and only goal in life is to find a way to get her to make that exact same sound again.
I bring my hand to the side of her head and completely let loose, kissing and teasing every inch of her neck, trying to find that exact spot that got to her a few seconds ago. She drops her head against her pillow and I take the opportunity to explore more of her neck. As soon as my lips begin to trail toward the rise in her chest, I force myself north again, not wanting to push it to the point that she asks me to stop. Because I absolutely don’t want to stop whatever this is we’re doing.
Her eyes are still closed and I drop my mouth to her lips, kissing her softly near the corner of her mouth.
And there it is. The softest, most delicate sound escapes her throat again. I can’t ignore the fact that another part of me wakes up with that sound. I continue kissing a full circle around the edges of her lips, impressed that I’m somehow able to find strength to pull back.
I have to stop for a moment because if I don’t, I’ll for sure break my one and only rule tonight—which is absolutely no mouth contact. I know if I kiss her right now it’ll be great. But I don’t want her to have great. I want her to have incredible. Looking at her lips right now, I know for a fact it’ll be incredible for me.
“They’re so perfect,” I say. “Like hearts. I could literally stare at your lips for days and never get bored.”
She opens her eyes and smiles. “No. Don’t do that. If all you do is stare, then I’ll be the bored one.”
Damn that smile. It’s painful having to watch that mouth smile and frown and pout and laugh and speak when all I want to watch it do is kiss me.
But then she licks her lips and everything I thought I just knew about pain actually starts to feel good compared to the way my heart is gouged out of my chest with that small tease. Jesus Christ, this girl.
I groan and press my forehead to hers. Having her mouth this close to mine sucks the self-control right out of me. I drop myself on top of her and it’s as if a rush of warm air swarms the room and encircles us. We both feel everything simultaneously and we moan together, move together, and breathe together.
Then we completely give in together. All four of our hands are frantically pulling off my shirt as if two hands can’t do it fast enough. As soon as it’s off, her legs lock around my waist and she pulls me tightly against her. I drop my forehead back to hers and move against her, finding a new way to force those tiny sounds from her mouth that have quickly become my new favorite song. We continue to move together and the more she gasps and quietly moans, the closer my lips move to hers, wanting to experience those sounds first-hand. I just need a tiny sample of what her kiss will feel like. A little preview, that’s all. I allow my lips to brush against hers and we both suck in a breath.
She feels it. She actually fucking feels this right now and I think I’m drowning in satisfaction. I don’t want to speed things up and I definitely don’t want to slow things down. I just want to keep things exactly as they are right now because it’s perfect.
I bring my hand to the side of her head and keep my forehead pressed against hers, my lips resting against hers. I love the feel of our mouths sliding together, so I pull back and lick my lips to create smoother traction. I straighten my legs out, taking some of my weight off my knees, not expecting the small shift to do what it does to her. She arches her back and whispers, “Oh, God.”
I feel like I should answer her, because it sure as hell seems like she’s referring to me right now with the way she throws her arms around my neck and tucks her head against me. Her arms are trembling and her legs are clenching my waist and I realize that not only is she feeling this right now, she’s doing everything in her power to fight it.
“Holder,” she whispers, clenching my back. I’m not sure if she’s wanting me to answer her or not, but I forgot how to speak so it doesn’t matter. I can barely even remember how to breathe right now.
“Holder.”
She says my name with more urgency this time so I kiss the side of her head and slow my movements against her. She hasn’t asked me to stop or slow down yet, but I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s about to do. I do whatever I can to intercept her plea because she feels incredible and I absolutely don’t want to stop.
“Sky, if you’re asking me to stop, I will. But I’m hoping you’re not, because I really don’t want to stop, so please.” I lift up and look down at her, still barely moving against her. She still hasn’t asked me to stop yet and honestly, I’m afraid to. I’m afraid if I stop, then whatever she’s feeling right now will disappear. That scares me because I know that with me, I’ll be feeling her for days after this. I love knowing that what I’m doing to her right now is having enough of an effect that she feels she needs me to stop before she passes an unexpected first tonight.
I reach to her cheek and stroke it with the back of my hand, wanting . . . no, needing for her to pass this first tonight. “We won’t go any further than this, I promise,” I say to her. “But please don’t ask me to stop where we already are. I need to watch you and I need to hear you because the fact that I know you’re actually feeling this right now is so fucking amazing. You feel incredible and this feels incredible and please. Just . . . please.”
I drop my mouth to hers and kiss her softly, immediately pulling back before that amazing connection turns into more than just a peck. Her lips feel so inconceivable perfect; I have to lift off her completely in order to regain my bearings. Otherwise, I won’t be able to hold myself at bay for another second. I look down at her and she’s looking back up at me, searching my eyes for an answer to a question she can only answer for herself. I wait patiently for her to decide where we go from here.
Her head begins to shake back and forth and she places her hands on my chest.
“Don’t. Whatever you do, don’t stop.”
br /> I remain still for a few seconds, repeating what she just said in my head several times until I’m absolutely certain she just told me not to stop. I slip my hand behind her neck and pull her forehead to mine. “Thank you,” I say breathlessly. I ease myself back down on top of her until we recapture our rhythm. She feels so incredible pressed against me, I don’t know that I’ll ever be the same again. This girl just raised the bar so far above all other girls’ heads, no one could ever come close.
I kiss her everywhere my lips have already touched her tonight, picking up pace with the timing of her gasps and moans. When I feel her body tensing around mine I pull away from her neck and look down at her. She digs her nails deeper into my skin, then tilts her head back and closes her eyes. She looks absolutely beautiful like this, but I need her eyes on mine. I need to watch her feel this.
“Open your eyes,” I tell her. She winces, but doesn’t look up at me. “Please.”
Her eyes immediately open beneath me when I say please. Her eyebrows crease together and she loses all rhythm to her breathing pattern. She’s fighting to breathe now as her body begins to tremble beneath me, all the while keeping our gaze locked together. All I can do is hold my breath and watch the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen unfold beneath me. When the loudest of her moans has escaped her lips, she can no longer keep her eyes open. As soon as she closes them, I drop my lips back to hers, needing to feel them against mine again. When she’s finally calm, I move my lips down to her neck and kiss it like I wish I could be kissing her mouth right now.
But seeing how much she needs me to kiss her mouth right now is making the wait even more important for me. Considering what just happened between us, it almost seems absurd to keep up the assurance of not kissing her. But I’m stubborn and I like knowing that the next time we’re together like this; we’ll be able to experience another first that’s likely to drive me even more insane than tonight has.
I press my lips to her shoulder and push up on my arm. I trail my fingers down her hairline and wipe away the loose strands from her face. She looks absolutely content and it’s the most beautiful, satisfying thing I’ve ever felt.
“You’re incredible,” I say, knowing that word is a severe understatement for what she actually is. She smiles at me and inhales a deep breath at the same time I do. I collapse beside her on the bed, needing to get off her immediately. My chest is completely alive right now and the only thing that I know could satisfy me is to be pressed against her again with my mouth on hers. I force the image of it out of my mind and attempt to cool myself off by matching my breathing pattern with hers.
After silently finding a stable enough point to touch her again, I move my hand closer to hers on the bed and wrap my pinky around hers. The sensation of her pinky in mine feels way too familiar. Way too right. Way too long overdue. I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to deny my conscience the satisfaction of being right.
She’s Sky. That’s who she is. I only doubt this because of how she feels so familiar. Familiarity is hardly enough to convince me otherwise.
I hope my instincts are wrong, because if I’m right, the truth will destroy her.
Please, just let her be Sky.
My fear of being right keeps pushing through and I sit up on the bed, needing to separate myself from her. I need to clear my head of all this craziness. “I have to go,” I say, looking down at her. “I can’t be on this bed with you for another second.”
I’m being honest. I can’t be on this bed with her for another second, although I’m sure she thinks it’s for other reasons. Not for the reason I really need to separate myself from her—the fact that I’m terrified my intuition is finally right for once.
I stand and pull my shirt over my head and notice that she’s looking at me like I’m rejecting her. I know she probably thought I’d end up kissing her tonight, but she’s got a lot to learn when it comes to doubting my word.
I lean in close to her and smile reassuringly. “When I said you weren’t getting kissed tonight, I meant it. But dammit, Sky. I had no idea how fucking difficult you would make it.” I slip my hand behind her neck and lean in to kiss her cheek. When she gasps, it takes everything I have to release my hold and climb off the bed. I watch her as I walk toward the window and pull my phone from my pocket. I send her a quick text, then wink at her, right before I climb outside. I pull the window shut and back a few steps away. As soon as the window is shut, she jumps off her bed and runs out of her bedroom, more than likely to go grab her phone and check her text. Normally, her excitement would more than likely make me laugh. Instead I find myself staring blankly through her bedroom window. My heart feels heavy and my mind even heavier as the pieces of the puzzle slowly begin to fit together, right down to her name.
“The sky is always beautiful . . .”
The memory causes me to flinch. I brace my hand against the brick wall and inhale a deep breath. It’s almost laughable, really—the fact that I can sit here and entertain the possibility that this could actually happen after thirteen years. If it were true . . . if she really were her . . . it would ruin her. Which is exactly why I refuse to accept it without tangible proof—something I can actually touch that would confirm it. Without tangible proof, she’ll remain Sky to me.
I just want her to be Sky.
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
Les,
Remember when we were kids and I made everyone stop calling me Dean? I never have told anyone the truth about why I go by Holder, not even you.
We were eight years old and it was the first and only time we ever went to Disneyland. We were waiting in line for one of the roller-coasters and you and Dad were in front of me because you couldn’t ride it by yourself. I was a few inches taller than you and it pissed you off that I was able to ride most of the rides alone and you weren’t.
When we made it to the front of the line, they put you and Dad on first and I had to wait for the next car to pull in. I was standing there alone, patiently waiting. I turned around to find Mom and she was about a hundred yards away at the exit to the ride, waiting for all of us to finish. I waved at her and she waved back at me. I turned back around when the next car pulled up.
That’s when I heard her.
I heard Hope yelling my name. I spun around and stood on my tiptoes, facing the sound of her voice.
“Dean!” she yelled. She sounded really far away, but I knew it was her because she said it with that accent of hers. She always dragged out the middle of my name and made it longer than one syllable. I always liked how she said my name, so hearing her yell it, I knew it was her. She must have spotted me and now she was trying to call for me to come help her.
“Dean,” she yelled again, only this time she sounded farther away. I could hear the panic in her voice. I began to panic myself, because I knew I’d get in trouble if I lost my place in line. Mom and Dad spent the entire week before we left reminding us to stay by one of them at all times.
I glanced over at Mom but she wasn’t looking at me, she was watching you and Dad on the ride. I didn’t know what to do, because she wouldn’t know where I was if I left the line. But as soon as Hope screamed my name again I didn’t care. I had to find her.
I started running toward the back of the line—toward the sound of her voice. I was yelling her name, hoping she would hear me and walk toward the sound of my voice.
God, Les. I was so excited. I was terrified and excited and knew that all our prayers had been answered, but it was up to me to hurry up and find her and I was scared I wouldn’t be able to. She was here and I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
I had it all planned out in my head. As soon as I found her, I would hug the hell out of her first, then I was going to grab her hands and pull her back to where Mom was standing. We were going to wait by the exit to the ride so when you walked off, she would be the first thing you would see.
I knew how happy you were going to be when you saw her. Neither of us had been truly happ
y in the two years since she was taken and this was our chance. After all, Disneyland is the happiest place on earth, and for the first time, I was starting to believe it.
“Hope!” I yelled, cupping my hands around my mouth. I had been running for several minutes, still trying to listen for the sound of her voice. She would yell my name, then I would yell her name, and this went on for what felt like forever until someone grabbed my arm and yanked it, stopping me in my tracks. Mom threw her arms around me and hugged me, but I was trying to get out of her grasp.
“Dean, you can’t run off like that!” she said. She was kneeling down, shaking my shoulders, looking me frantically in the eyes. “I thought I lost you.”
I pulled away from her and tried to keep running toward Hope, but Mom wouldn’t let go of my shoulders. “Stop it!” she said, confused why I was trying to get away from her.
I looked back at her in a panic and shook my head vigorously, trying to catch my breath and find the words. “It’s . . .” I pointed toward the direction I wanted to run. “It’s Hope, Mom! I found Hope! We have to go to her before I lose her again.”
Sadness instantly reached her eyes and I knew she didn’t believe me. “Dean,” she whispered, shaking her head sympathetically. “Sweetie.”
She felt sorry for me. She didn’t believe me, because this wasn’t the first time I thought I’d found her. But I knew I was right this time. I knew it.
“Dean!” Hope cried again. “Where are you?” She was much closer this time and I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was crying now. Mom’s eyes darted toward the voice and I knew she heard her calling for me, too.
“We have to find her, Mom,” I pleaded. “It’s her. That’s Hope.”
Mom looked me in the eyes and I could see the fear in them. She nodded, then grabbed my hand.
“Hope?” she yelled, scanning over the crowd. We were both calling her name now and I remember looking up at Mom at one point, watching her while she helped me search. I loved her more than I ever had in that moment, because she actually believed me.
We heard my name called again and it was so much closer this time. Mom looked down at me and her eyes were wide. We both broke out into a run toward the sound of Hope’s voice. We pushed through the crowd and . . . that’s when I saw her. Her back was to us and she was standing all by herself.
“Dean!” she yelled again.
Mom and I were both frozen. We couldn’t believe it. She was standing right in front of us, looking for me. After two years of not knowing who took her or where she was, we had finally found her. I started to walk forward, but I was suddenly shoved aside by a teenage boy rushing toward her. When he reached her, he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.
“Ashley! Thank God!” he said, pulling her to him.
“Dean,” she said to the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I got lost.”
He picked her up. “I know, sis. I’m so sorry. You’re okay now.”
She pulled her tear-streaked face away from his chest and she glanced in our direction.
She wasn’t Hope.
She wasn’t Hope at all.
And I wasn’t the Dean she was looking for.
Mom squeezed my hand and knelt down in front of me. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” she said. “I thought it was her, too.”