And Then We Fell Apart (18+)

chapter 17

I'm watching my phone like a hawk the next morning, waiting very impatiently for Sam's call. It finally comes, and I can't help the smile that's been permanently on my face since late last night.

"My mom just left. She won't be back for a few hours," he tells me, keeping his voice slow and shy. But he gets his point across, I know why he wants me to come over.

Trying to play it cool is out of the question. I've been waiting for him to tell me to come over since the second I went home early this morning. I can't stop thinking about his hands, his mouth, everything. It's everything I wanted and more.

I make it to his house and we don't waste even a second. He gives me everything I need and then some, pressing his lips to mine again and again before I can even get my coat off of my arms. He assists in taking it off but then selfishly pulls me upstairs to his room.

"Mm, your nose is cold," he hums.

All the while he holds my face and pushes me down on his bed, a place I haven't been before. My head sinks into his pillow while he climbs on top of me.

I laugh between kisses. "It's cold outside, Sam."

He disregards my words and kisses me hard, taking my breath away when he slips his hand beneath the bottom of my shirt to feel my skin. I gasp at the feeling, which only makes him smile. His tongue graces mine and I'm completely enthralled, and I fear there's no going back from this.

"You taste really good," I declare through soft breaths.

"What?" he giggles, pulling away just slightly.

I shrug, my fingers playing with the ends of his hair. My face hurts from smiling. "I don't know. You taste just like I thought you would."

His eyes are quick to move over my face, taking in every tiny detail that he couldn't last night in the dark. Now in the late morning light, we can see each other the way we were meant to.

"What?" I say next when he doesn't reply.

"You're funny," he leans forward and covers my mouth with his again.

"Funny?" I pull back. "That's all you've got?"

He shakes his head. I don't think I've ever seen him smile as much as he is now. "Shut up. You know I think you're more than just funny."

"What else?" I watch my hand touch his face, obsessing over the way it looks against it. I bite down on my bottom lip very gently, captivated by the way his eyes linger there.

"I think you're so fucking pretty, Chandler," he lifts his hand from my bare side to pull my lip from between my teeth, forcing me to release it. His thumb traces over my lip for the first time since the closet almost a year ago. His other hand is under my shirt still, very slowly creeping over my hot skin.

"Keep going," I say slowly, meaning both his words and his hand.

He offers a soft smile, knowing my game though this is so new to both of us. I've always said we are on the same wavelength, so this can't end badly.

"You're prettier than any girl I've ever seen," he goes on. His dark eyes flash with amazement when his fingertips graze the underwire of my bra.

I nod, breathlessness taking hold of me while my eyes start to close from the pleasure but stay open to see him. I can't look away. I've been waiting for this for so long.

"More," I demand.

He loves this. He's entranced by my every move that's only influenced by him and his hands, especially as I arch my back into him to get my point across. I can tell by the curve of his lips.