I snowboard past the front row on my right and see Paisley laughing, cheering, and beaming, and my heart just opens. She is just so beautiful.So beautiful.
Dad looks happier than I’ve ever seen him, and Wyatt is roaring.
There is only a small passageway between the front row and the main area, behind it the spectators are waiting. I sail between them, there’s not much space, barely three feet, and the crowd reaches out for me. I give people high fives, stop for photos and autographs, and know that this is what I want forever, even if I decide to take another path.
At this very moment I realize that changing something doesn’tnecessarily mean having to give something up. When I think about it, I am happier than I have been in a long time, and I think that in my heart, Mom’s smiling at me.
I grab hold of it and don’t let go.
It’s shortly before three. We were at the riders’ party in some old villa, sponsored by some brewery or other, and everyone was celebrating my having taken first place. Jason Hawk wassome kind of pissed, and that made mesohappy.
Now, I’m drunk, and Paisley, too, and we’re stumbling into my room. She falls onto the bed, runs her hand across my bedspread, and giggles. I kiss her laugh away and take it inside me. I’ve kissed a lot of women in my life—a lot—but there’s no one like Paisley. Not a single one kisses like she does. It’s hard work holding back and slowing down every time she touches me. She just does that to me, makes me soimpatient, and I don’t know why, but I love it. I love every single tension-filled second she explores my body with her lips, with her fingertips.
Paisley is more. She’s enough forever.
Her hands tear at my sweater. I help her pull it over my head and like how she explores my abs, how her lips move along the sides and my penis pulses in reaction. It takes me three goes to get her jeans open, then everything becomes a whirlwind of kisses, pulling off her pants, and tossing the whole thing into the farthest corner of my room by the dresser.
I push her shoulders down until her back is against the bed, then bend over her, my hands to the left and right. I scatter kisses, feel her warm skin, hear her panting. Her hands grab my hips, pull me on top of her while she pushes and rubs against me.Shit, this is heavy. I have to pull away otherwise the whole thing will be over in two, maybe three seconds.
“Knox.”
She can’t go any further. I can see it in the width of her pupils, feel it in the heat of her body, the way she lifts herself up. I wander down, run my finger along her collarbone to her breasts. She’s wearing a lace bra with the clasp in front. It must be new—it’s nice, real nice—but I don’t want to see it now, I just want us. Just skin on skin. I undo the clasp and kiss her soft skin beneath, kiss the fine curve of her breasts, take her nipple in my mouth. Paisley grabs my hair and makes a sound that causes me to break out in goose bumps. She digs her nails into my scalp. It burns, but not in a bad way, just one that makes me wantmore, more, more.I pull down her panties, she spreads her legs, whimpering with desire, and I run my tongue back and forth over her most sensitive area. She writhes beneath me, her hands on my shoulders. Her hold is so strong I know she can’t hold out too much longer. Her legs begin to tremble. I like seeing her face from down here, her fluttering, closed eyelids, her pursed lips right before they open again and give off that bright,beautifulsound that drives me crazy.
“Knox,” she says again when I stop, and it’s a pleading, an “I can’t do anymore.” I like the sound, like knowing how much she wants me. With my hand, I pull open the drawer of my nightstand, blindly dig around, gum, pens, the broken alarm clock from last year and then, finally, a condom. I nibble her ear while I peel off my pants and boxers and notice the way her skin reacts as I let my breath brush her ear. I tear open the package and slide it on while Paisley lies beneath me, burning, as if she had a fever.Ihave this effect on her.Ican make sure that she feels good, that she feelsloved.
“Paisley,” I say, quick and soft, husky and fraught with meaning, because this momentisfraught with meaning,iseverything.
Then I let myself sink into her, find the warm, moist part of her body that still separates us, and give her what she wants, what I want.
What we want.
It’s stunning. Slow and tender, then faster and urgent, ayou-are-everything, you-are- everything, you-are-everything.
Her lips open, we look at each other while moving in time, andI know that we’re both thinking the same thing:How is this possible?
How is it possible to want someone so much that sex can feel this way? How is it possible that our feelings can beso strong, soall-encompassingthat I think I’m going to explode out of happiness?
It’s possible by loving. Truly loving. I didn’t realize that before, but now I know. And Paisley, too.
I kiss her, caress her face, look at her, look into those big blue eyes that recognize more about me than I do. I lay my forehead against hers. She’s breathing quickly. Irregularly.
“Everything okay?” I whisper.
Her grip on my hips grows stronger. She closes her eyes. I can feel her lashes brushing my skin. She nods against my forehead, laughs against my lips.
I kiss her everywhere, her neck, her ear, her mouth, brush my hands across her soft breasts, enjoy the effect I am having on her. Paisley pushes against me, wrapping her legs around my body tighter, and everything starts to move harder, quicker. I let go of all my self-control and let myself be guided by my feelings, give her back everything she is giving me. Her body tenses; she presses her heels into the mattress and holds her breath. I can’t describe it, can’t believe this feeling at this moment—it’s so agonizingly beautiful it’s almost unbearable. We are moving, heading toward something that is more than we ever thought possible, more than anything we know. She and I, me and her, together here, now. Until we gasp and breathe, forget to breathe and gasp again.
We claw at each other and let go, my heart is beating against my chest as if it wants to dig its way out.
I sink down and begin to breathe more heavily. Our glowing bodies are slick with sweat. It takes forever for me to stop feeling dizzy so that I can roll back off her. I interlock my fingers with hers and kiss her beneath her now messy hair.
“I wish you knew what I was feeling right now,” I say.
She turns toward me. “I feel the same way.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
She laughs. “Wanna bet?” And then, “I’m sweating, and it’s cold. I don’t want to catch a cold.”
