“Hmm.” Releasing him, I laughed and pulled back to peer into his face. “That might be a bit of a stretch.”
He didn’t return the smile. Those sharp cheekbones and bright blue eyes, framed by his dark hair, gave him an intensity that seemed much more mature than his sixteen years.
Without another word, he slid his hands to my hips and scooped me into his arms. He pushed his mouth to my ear. “Every day we’re together and I can’t touch you is like dying on the inside little by little.”
Gently, almost reverently, he laid me on the bed, then pressed himself beside me.
“I’ve felt the same way.” I stroked the side of his face, smoothing the long hair back from his cheeks and eyes. “How are we going to do this, though? There’s no way my parents are going to be okay with us…dating…being together under the same roof.”
“We don’t have to tell them. Not yet at least.” He glanced toward my closed door, as if his words would bring them running.
With Dad gone, Mom passed out from her wine, and Lana asleep, we had the house to ourselves.
I wanted this boy. I wanted to mark him, to stake my claim and let the world—let Katrina—know I was his and he was mine.
“Paxton,” I said, slipping my fingers to the band of his jeans. “I feel the same way about you. When you’re around me, it’s like I can breathe easier. The whole world seems brighter and full of promise.” I slid the zipper down.
He put his hand over mine. “CC?”
My eyes travel ed up his body to meet his stare. “Yeah?”
“I can wait, you know. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I love you too much to ever make you feel pressured.” He placed a tender kiss on my lips and pulled back, propping an elbow and resting his chin in his hand.
“Oh, I want this.” I slid my hand from his and sat up, gripping the hem of my T-shirt and pulling it off.
If it had been anyone else except Paxton, I would’ve fled from shame or embarrassment. But I didn’t feel those old emotions that made me feel ugly or unworthy.
He gazed at me like he’d been at sea for months and I was the first glimpse of shore. “I don’t have any…uh, protection.”
I gave a relieved laugh. “I’m on the pill for my complexion.” I bit my bottom lip and fidgeted. “You’ll be my first. Is that…is that okay?”
Lowering his head to the pillow, he reached out and tugged me to his chest. “Only if you’re okay with being myfirst.”
“Are you serious?” Reflexively, I pulled back a few inches. There wasn’t any way this boy, who looked like the lovechild between a young Billy Idol and Andy Biersack, had never been laid. Not with his sweet, gentle heart and soft-spoken ways. He had girls practically dropping their panties as soon as he passed them in the hallways.
Impossible.
“Yep.” He pushed himself above my body, lifting a hand to sweep his fingertips down my neck, his eyes following their path. “I’ve messed around, but nothing serious. The past couple of years, worrying about where Dad and I were going to stay, what we were going to eat, why he couldn’t seem to shake his dope habit, dampened any kind of social life. Girls were always an afterthought…more like a dream.”
I snuck a hand under his shirt and up his spine, unable to say anything for a moment.What a miserable life.
His thumb circled the band of my bra, just under the swell of my breast, then he looked at me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ll be fine.” The lean muscles of his back bunched under my fingers as he leaned down and planted a deep, passionate kiss on my lips.
After a few seconds, he pulled back. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve lain awake, just one door down, unable yet desperate to feel your skin, to kiss your lips.” He smiled shyly. “It’s been torture. I think my hand is getting arthritis.”
For a minute, I paused, trying to puzzle out his last sentence.
I smothered a snort and smacked his chest. “Why am I the only one half naked?”
He rose and sat on the backs of his calves. Straddling my hips, he grabbed the hem of the collar at the back of his neck and yanked his shirt over his head.
Sucking in a breath, I could only stare at his hard chest. He wasn’t overly muscled like the guys on the football team, but his body was well-defined and lean.
For a moment, something like vulnerability or fear flashed in his eyes.
I sat up enough to reach behind my back and unclasp my bra, flinging the garment to the floor. “Now we’re even.”
