His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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........................................ NOAH
How can someone fit so perfectly in your arms?
We crafted our own little universe tonight. I know Jed would dispute it, but it's true. We divined gravity, fused atoms, and split apart.
I toss the remote up in the air while lying on my back, then catch it—my thoughts doing the same with memories. The stupid smile on my face just won't fade, not that I'm trying too hard to lose it.
Lying here, in the quiet of my room, the glow of the TV casts scenes of Boy Meets World across the walls.
I showered, brushed my teeth, and found a new pair of sweatpants, but I still feel her hands, smell her skin, taste her on my tongue.
I'm made for her.
I could live in the memory of tonight forever. The feel of her in my arms dancing, her hot wet mouth on my cock, my fingers inside her as she came—I'd live in it forever.
Leaving her in her room? That was tough. That was my test of willpower for the night. She looked so small, wrapped up in my clothes, the remnants of laughter still in her eyes. I wanted to watch over her, but I had to give her that space. It's about caring enough follow through on slow.
I tried sleeping, even knowing Fox was going to fall through the door drunk in the next hour or so, but it didn't work. Every time I close my eyes, I feel her warmth.
Is she lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about me? Does she feel this same pull? Did she get herself off in the shower like I did as soon as she was alone?
I catch the remote and toss it onto Fox's bed beside mine, raking my hands through my damp hair, huffing.
A knock at the door.
Fox lost his key again.
Pushing off the bed, I stride over in my sweats, rubbing a hand over my bare chest.
The door swings open to reveal..."Jed?"
And Cam's sprawled on the floor behind him.
Cam's laughing at the ceiling. She's engulfed in my grey sweatshirt, wearing very small yellow shorts on her long, lean, tanned legs. Her hair, a curly chaotic halo around her head, looks wild—not the sleek style from earlier.
"What the..."
"She does not want to go back to her room." Jed levels me a look. "I think Paige did something, Noah."
Cam offers a brilliant, sloppy smile. "We found you! Jed, fist bump!"
Jed nods and gives her a fist bump.
Cam's bloodshot eyes meet mine, the smell of wine heavy in the air around her, her cheeks flushed.
"Thanks, Jed," I say, walking over to kneel by Camila.
