Our two-day agreement was over, and after having dinner with him, I was to leave for my apartment. I didn’t want to, obviously, but Ihadto.
Who knew time could go by so fast when you were busy watching Netflix movies, eating popcorn and ice cream, and kissing your boyfriend like he was a Jolly Rancher candy?
Well, certainly notme, until I finally did realize that everything comes to an end, and so did our little getaway from the outside world.
Boo.
“Forty minutes until food arrives,” Gallan said, and then scratched at his left armpit. “Jesus, I hate when things get all itchy a few days after shave.”
“Aww. Did you use a rash cream or something on it?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve been using the products I use on a daily. Things just start to get scratchy a week after I shave.” He huffed. “Fucking body hair. Annoying pieces of shit.”
I chuckled. “Look at us, talking about armpits and unwanted hair. That’ssucha healthy conversation to have.”
He grinned. “Yeah well, we have forty minutes to kill before the takeout guy shows up, so…” He shrugged.
“Oh, but I can think of something that is far more important than body-hair talk,” I said.
His eyes gleamed a little under the ceiling lights. “Can you?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And pray tell, what might that thing be?” He canted his head and quirked a brow.
I bit my bottom lip. “Come here and I’ll show you.”
With a grin, Gallan hovered over me and easily settled between my open legs. He placed his forearms next to the sides of my head and touched our foreheads together.
I loved it when he was so close. This way, I could very clearly see the vibrant spark in his dark eyes – one that he seemed to have almost always.
Gallan was divine perfection; he was my source for pure inebriation.
He awakened me like the moon did the stars; he grounded me like the sky did the storm.
I placed my fingers on his jaw and pressed my lips to his. He responded in kind and parted mine with his tongue. I moaned, because I couldn’t help it. He tasted like the blueberry Pop Tarts we’d had a few minutes ago, and somehow, it just made me kiss him harder.
I shuddered, just a little, when he ran a hand below my breast, on my stomach, and then lower – to the outside of my left thigh. So much – he made me feel so much,toomuch…
His calloused touch soothed me; our lips merging, colliding – it set me ablaze.
His hand traced over the goosebumps on the back of my thigh, and I let go of an uneven breath because I wanted more, because I craved more of what he was giving me.
“Gallan…” I whispered after breaking the kiss. “Gallan, I…”
His hand reached my knee, which sent pinpricks all over my body. “Yes, Zaira.”
“More…” the word was barely audible as I uttered it. “Gimme more.”
His gaze darkened. “What do you want, baby? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
God, he really was perfect.
I grabbed his hand – the one that was on my knee – and brought it right over to where the hoodie was covering my sex. “More,” I said against his glistening lips.
He took a raspy breath and swallowed. “You sure?”
“Yes, Gallan.Please.”
