Breaking the Rules

  I immediately comply, and Noah moans. The sound causes my blood to pump faster. Unable to resist, I move my hips against him again, but this time it’s methodical, it’s in a rhythm. Noah releases my hair, and it falls around us—a silky rain covering us both.

  He lowers one hand and squeezes my hip. The other cups my bottom, coaxing me to continue. His fingers tease right along the hem of my underwear, and a burst of warmth spirals through me.

  The world becomes hazy. Thought no longer exists. Just his lips. Just the heat of his body. The feelings of pleasure and urges and this desperate need for faster flows in my veins. It’s like I’m roasting—clinging to a flame, and I long to be burned.

  Noah runs his fingers along my spine, and instantly my bra loosens around my shoulders. It’s a tickling stroke as he eases one strap and then the other off my arm. He rolls us, and I gasp for air when Noah frees the last bit of material separating our chests.

  His lips leave my mouth and begin their descent down. My fingers tangle in his hair, letting him know that I’m lost in his exploration. Lost in this moment. Lost in this love we share.

  I could do this forever and never stop.

  Noah nips my belly button, and I giggle and flinch with the sensation, but it doesn’t halt his barrage of kisses. He maneuvers his mouth to the side of my stomach and rubs the sensitive spot he just kissed, taking away the tickle, and transforms it into this massage that makes me suck in my breath and curl my toes.

  “Noah,” I whisper as my hips rock without my consent. Our gazes lock. Lust and love darken his chocolate-brown eyes.

  There are many places we can go. Many ways we can do this and over the past couple of months, we’ve explored, and reexplored, and developed new twists on old ways to bring ourselves to that glorious high. As my heart beats frantically, I know that this is the night that it’s new. This is the night I make love to Noah Hutchins.

  “Can you...” I whisper, then trail off. My entire body seems to quiver with my pulse. I swallow and try again. “Can you...”

  Read my mind. Oh, God, I’d give anything if he could read my mind. Noah tucks a curl behind my ear as his eyes desperately search for what I can’t communicate. “What, Echo?”

  With the words stuck in my throat, my fingers trace down and undo the button of his jeans. Noah’s eyes snap to mine while I slowly pull on the zipper. My hands wander to the part of him that I hope will help him decipher my desires.

  Noah shuts his eyes and shifts closer to me. Within seconds he reopens them, and it’s like looking upon a deep lake. His lips brush against mine in a tender way. In a way Noah’s never kissed me before, like he’s saying the words I love you over and over again, but there’s no sound. Just his heart. Just his soul.

  My thumb hooks around his jeans and begins to edge them off. Noah caresses my face, and I lean into his touch.

  “Are you sure?” he asks.

  “Never been more sure of anything.” And I mean it. There’s this calm, this knowing, this understanding that was never present before. I said no for years hoping that I would know when I was ready, and I smile, satisfied that I truly did wait for the right moment.

  Noah slowly takes my bottom lip between his then releases it. One kiss along my jawline. Another on my neck. Pleasing goose bumps spread across my skin. With one last glance at me, Noah rolls away while reaching for his pack.

  My heart thunders with the crackle of a package ripping open. I’m doing this. I’m going to make love with Noah Hutchins.

  He shrugs off his jeans, and I become aware of my underwear when I notice that today wasn’t a boxer shorts type of day for him.

  With his bare butt to me, Noah pauses to do what he has to do so we don’t create other little Noahs and Echos. I’m on the pill, but we agreed to be overcautious.

  Unfortunately, all the need, all the desire that had been building to an explosion is replaced by the coolness of the night air pricking at my skin and the millions of fears whispering in my mind. What if it hurts? What if I don’t like it? What if Noah doesn’t like doing it with me? What if I do it wrong? What if...

  Then Noah finishes and eases his body next to mine. The cold fades away and so do the questions. He settles beside me. An arm and a leg drape over me as he kisses my shoulder. “Any time you want to stop, we can. Just say the word.”

  “I want this.” So much that I ache.

  His fingers begin this slow dance, lingering in areas, exploring. Noah skims under my breast, along my stomach, down my legs, to the inside of my thighs, then to a place that causes my back to arch. With kisses that make me drunk and touches that send me soaring, Noah eases off my underwear.

  My breath comes out faster, and my hold on him tightens and right when the world is going to fracture into a million pieces, Noah covers my body with his, and I sense Noah in areas that he’s never been before. Like inside me, yet not. He’s warm and solid.

  Noah brushes his mouth against mine and caresses my face as he distributes his weight to his elbows. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I whisper with the need to shout. I’m right on the verge of exploding, and I want this release.

  He kisses a trail to my ear. “I love you, Echo Emerson.”

  “I love you—” And Noah slips in. My breath catches in my throat, and my arms choke his neck, my fingers yank his hair. We both lie completely still, and my eyes squeeze shut with the burning pain.

  Noah strokes my hair and presses his lips near my temple. “It’s all right, Echo. We’re all right.”

  Moisture forms in my eyes, and Noah kisses a path up my cheek. I open them, and he stares down at me. His body shakes as if he’s trying desperately to stay motionless. “Are you with me, baby?”

  I swallow then nod.

  “We can stop.” He rests his forehead on mine, and his pulse visibly pumps in his neck.

  I’m holding my breath, and I hesitantly suck air through my nose then release it through my mouth. The pain isn’t as sharp anymore, and I gather my courage to continue. “I’m okay.”

  When I’m able to breathe normally, Noah moves. It’s slow, and it doesn’t hurt as much. He closes his eyes like he’s concentrating, and when he opens his eyes, he gives me a small grin. “Try to relax.”

  “I am.” I’m not.

  “You’re drawing blood.”

  Oh, crap. My nails are embedded in his back, and my fingers strangle his hair. I loosen my grip, and the horror makes me anxious and a bit hysterical. For the love of all things holy, I honest to God giggle. My cheeks flush with the sound, but the shyness and embarrassment fade when Noah chuckles with me.

  It’s like my entire body sighs with relief. All of the tension melts away, and having Noah inside me no longer aches.

  Noah skims a hand down the side of my body and when he reaches the curve of my butt, he nudges himself farther up. Only a slight discomfort this time and in the dark private areas in my mind, I liked it more than I hated it.

  The thought causes warmth to return to my lower sections, and I’m able to kiss Noah back when he reclaims my lips.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.

  I internally hold my breath. “Am I doing it right?”

  A glint sparks in his eyes. “You’re perfect.”

  And I smile.

  Another kiss to my lips; another nudge forward. “Keep relaxing for me.”

  Instead of concentrating on relaxing, I focus on the heat of his body against mine, his spicy scent and how the light of the camping lantern strikes the few gold pieces in his dark hair. And I especially fixate on how when Noah shifts up, it creates addictive sensations in certain areas that I really, really...I mean really like.

  As Noah moves again, his grip on me tightens yet he possesses the same amount of gentleness. Like I’m precious glass he’s afraid of brea
king.

  He drops his head, and I kiss his shoulder while wrapping my feet around his. A rough sound leaves his throat, and a thrill sweeps through me that I have the ability to twist him inside out.

  “Jesus Christ, Echo.” His fingers dig into my shoulders. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “It’s okay,” I whisper into his ear, and squeeze my body to his.

  Noah holds his breath and with a few final sharp pushes, he shudders. He breathes hard and fast, and my body completely absorbs his weight as he gains his bearings.

  “I love you,” he whispers. And he says it again. And again. Then each uttering of the statement is followed by his lips pressing against my body.

  There’s a split second when he rolls away, takes care of certain business, but then he’s quick returning to me. “Are you sore?”

  “Kind of, but not as bad as I thought I’d be.” I skim my fingers along his face. “I love you.”

  So much. And giving him this, it feels like a forever sort of thing.

  My body is in this strange teetering state. There’s a surge of adrenaline that I made it to the other side unscathed. Then there’s a stream of desire still crying out to be released. A huge part of me acknowledges that I’m nowhere ready to do that again...yet.

  Noah grabs a blanket, covers us both and adjusts the pillows so that I’m completely surrounded. As I snuggle next to him, Noah’s fingers trace up the inside of my thigh and when my eyes roll back in pleasure, he kisses my lips and appears to begin again.

  “Not again,” I beg, though I’m loving his touch. “Not yet.”

  “Not again,” he says. “Just for you.”

  Noah kisses and touches and declares his love through intimate whispers, and he becomes a man determined to finish what I had started.

  Noah

  Echo flinches in her sleep, and my eyes snap open. She’s been restless with her arms flung over her head and the blanket bunched between her legs. Little lines form in the space between her brows, and she sucks in a sharp intake of air.

  A flash of panic rips through me. No. Not tonight. Not after we made love. A night terror isn’t the memory I want her to have. It’s not the memory I want to carry.

  I wrap an arm around her, and my fingers slide against the wide scar on her back. Anger ripples along my muscles. I’ve touched her scars hundreds of times, but after what we’ve shared, the emotion evolves into a monster.

  I know how much I love Echo. After what we’ve done...my heart aches...I fucking worship her now. How the hell could someone that claimed to love her do this? Leave her scarred? Mentally...physically.

  Echo’s body jolts as if she was zapped by electricity. I lean down and kiss her neck. “Echo.”

  “Please,” she begs, still lost in her dream. “Don’t do this.”

  It’s hard to pull her out of the world she’s stuck in once she’s there. The dream becomes alive and vicious and grows tentacles that cling to her and drag her deep. When I talk, she talks back, but not to me. Never to me. It’s to her mother, and each time it makes me hate the bitch more.

  Echo’s face is cool to the touch, even though sweat beads along the roots of her hair. I peel back a curl smothered to her cheek. “Baby, I need you to wake up.”

  Before the screaming starts, because those shrieks tear out a part of my soul. It’s like watching her die, and I’m behind a glass wall, unable to save the girl I love.

  She jerks her head back and forth. Large, hot tears pool in the corners of her eyes then spill down her face. Fuck me. Just fuck me.

  “Echo.” The desperation increases in my voice, grows in my body. “Don’t do this. Wake up. Come on, wake up.”

  Her arms fly out to shield her face, and I can see how the glass slashed across her arms. How a scar on her right arm begins then ends as a scar on her left. I’ve considered showing her because I don’t think she’s noticed the pattern. Her two arms create a whole picture of the nightmare she experienced.

  I grab on to her wrists, pull them away from her face and kiss her lips, lips that can’t kiss me back. “Please, wake up. I’m right here.”

  I take in her bottom lip, and it’s hard to do when her body trembles and her arms shake for freedom. As I move away, Echo briefly stills. My heart pounds hard once. She heard me. “It’s a bad dream, Echo. It’s not real.”

  Her arms relax as she stops fighting, and when I link my fingers with hers, she holds me back. Behind her closed lids, her eyes dart. She still belongs to the dream, but for the first time, I’m in there with her. I lower my forehead to hers. “Come back to me, baby.”

  Echo turns to the sound of my voice, and her eyelids flutter open. A few more drops fall down her face, and her body jerks as she realizes that she’s awake. I’ve held her enough times throughout this summer to know that even though she’s rejoined reality, the demons will continue to scream at her from the back of her mind.

  Her body quakes as Echo tries to prevent the sobs, and she throws her hands over her face. “It wasn’t supposed to happen tonight.”

  Like I have so many times, I scoop her up, tucking the sheet around her, and cradle her in my lap. Echo buries her head in the crook of my shoulder as she releases the pain, the frustration, the hurt.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. “We’re going to be okay.”

  “She was there, and there was blood, and I couldn’t stop it.” Echo wraps her arms tighter around my neck, and I draw her closer, wishing I could steal the nightmares that torment her.

  “You’re safe.” I shut my eyes and attempt to kill the anger at her mother. How the hell does Echo turn it off? How can she wake like this, totally shattered, then hours later contemplate talking to her, listening to the bitch’s messages? “I swear to you, you’re safe.”

  And as far as I’m concerned, Echo’s going to stay that way.

  I comb my fingers through her hair, massage her back and make that shushing noise that calms her. When her sobs are less intense, I begin to sing. More whisper than song. Right in her ear. The same song as the night we first kissed.

  Echo relaxes in my arms, and I sing it through, one more time. A little for her, but more for me. I don’t know how to protect her from the demons in her mind. How do I fight something that can’t be seen?

  When I finish, there’s silence. I strain to hear anything, but the land around us says nothing. No cars, no planes, no jacked-up people yelling into the night.

  “I’m tired of living in the past,” Echo whispers. “I don’t want to go back.”

  “Then no more past,” I answer. “Only the future. We’re going to get our degrees, we’re going to get married and we’ll never look back.”

  “We were fine after graduation and before the sand dunes. Before we talked about heading home. Everything was perfect.”

  My neck stiffens. “Tonight was perfect.”

  Echo raises her head, and it’s damn hard to meet her eyes. If I spot regret there, I’ll lose my shit. I blink when I notice the smile playing at her lips and how she shyly glances away.

  Fuck me. Heaven in the middle of hell, but how else would Echo and I do this? She fell asleep after and so did I—tangled in each other’s arms. This is it. This is the moment of truth of the after and so far, I like what I see.

  Her cheeks flood red, and when she takes in our lack of clothes, her eyes widen. “Oh.”

  I choke down a laugh. Hoping to help her modesty, I lay her down, draw up a cover and prop my head on my fist. “You okay?”

  “I heard you in my dream telling me to come back. No one else has been there before.”

  Damn straight she heard me. “See, we’re kicking your past’s ass already.”

  The right side of Echo’s mouth strains up but then tugs down. “Was it okay for you?”

  We’ve moved
away from night terrors. “Perfect.”

  “I’m not good at it.”

  “Echo...” I sigh. There’s no right way to explain this. “What happened tonight was special because I did it with you.”

  She messes with the cuticles of her nails. Damn it, I can’t get the girl to stop thinking. I wish I could crawl into her mind and hear what she’s mulling over, but then again, it’s probably better if I remain ignorant.

  “It’s sort of weird,” she says.

  I place my hands over hers to stop her assault on her nails. “What’s weird?”

  She shrugs, not able to meet my gaze. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

  Pain strikes my chest. Don’t regret it. Please don’t. “Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah.” Echo’s green eyes drift to mine. “It’s...I...uh...read this article once that said when you have sex with someone it releases these chemicals in your brain, and it makes you more attached.”

  Could explain my fresh need to kill her mom. “Okay.”

  “And I already loved you...”

  I run a hand over my face. Is this the buildup before she pushes me over the edge? “Yeah?”

  Echo fidgets with the end of the blanket. “Well...my virginity was mine to give. I mean, how many times have I heard over and over again that there’s only one shot at this. That there’s no take backs. That once I give it, it’s gone.”

  And now she regrets it. I rub my eyes as I don’t like the wetness in them. I don’t like the way my muscles tense. I fucking love her and would stand in front of a goddamned train to protect her, and she regrets the best damned night of my life.

  “I guess I’m saying,” she continues, “now that it doesn’t belong to me anymore...well...I’m glad I gave it to you. So in a weird way, my virginity is yours now. That’s something you’ll always have and...I sort of like the idea that it belongs to you.”

  My head shoots up, and my heart stops beating. “What did you say?”

  She bites her bottom lip. “If I’m going to be closer to someone, I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you’re the one I gave this part of myself to.”