It’s that word that wakes me completely and undoes something in me. Worth. Suddenly, everything about this moment feels urgent. Desperate. I can’t even respond with words. There’s no time, because I have to cover her mouth with mine. Like, if I don’t kiss her right here, right now, I might die. Just stop breathing and dissolve. She opens her lips to me, touching my tongue with hers, and I can breathe again.
The boat bobs underneath us, a gentle sway pushing us together. My fingers curl around the hem of her shirt, pulling it up so I can touch her skin, sweep my thumbs over the firm planes of her stomach. Goose bumps break out below my touch, and I smile against her mouth. Soon, she’s reaching out too, her hands on my bare waist. My stomach isn’t nearly as toned as hers, and when her fingers brush the skin there, I suck in.
“This okay?” she asks, pulling back for a minute.
I relax. “Yeah. Is it okay for you?”
She smiles and we kiss until I’m dizzy, until my entire body aches and all I want is more. More her. More us.
I lift her shirt over her head, revealing a Tiffany-blue bra with a little swath of lace over the top of each cup. She’s so beautiful, I can barely see straight. I meet her half-lidded gaze and she nods, gliding her finger up my rib cage. I dip my head to the slope of her collarbone, tasting the hollow of her throat, sliding down to press a kiss to her sternum. My hand drifts up, over her bra and her small, soft breasts. Her breath catches and she arches a little into my touch.
“Lift up,” I say, and she does. I unhook her bra and slide it down her arms.
“You too.” She grins and pulls at my purple shirt. “It’s only fair.” I tear it off, my bra following quickly. Our skin presses together. Curves and planes, light and dark, an amazing sort of sameness mingling with all the differences.
She releases a long breath, or maybe I do, because being together like this is such a relief. I glide my fingertips up her thigh. She huffs out a gaspy laugh, so I do it again and soon we’re both breathing heavily but sort of laughing at the same time, and the whole thing is just so right, it feels almost wrong.
The thought intensifies my touch, which encourages hers, and soon there’s no more talking. She rolls over so she’s hovering above me, her fingertips light, her mouth warm, a glint of wonder in her eyes. I’m totally aflame. That’s the only word for it. Red and crackling and hot. As she touches her mouth to mine again, her hand drifts south and flicks the button of my denim shorts free.
“Okay?” she asks, pausing.
I can only nod, and the zipper zurps downward.
“I want to take care of you, Grace,” she whispers, her voice trembling a little.
“You are. We don’t have to do anything else for that to be true.”
She inhales a shaky breath. “I know.”
“You’re nervous. We can stop—?”
“I don’t want to stop. I . . . I know I’m not experienced with this stuff, but I want to be with you. I want to take care of you this way too.” She holds my gaze, her teeth pressing over her lower lip. “Can I try?”
All I can do is nod, my throat tight with tears—?the best tears that have ever threatened to fall. I feel totally undone. Again. Something knotted and hard and perpetually pissed off and nervous unravels inside me.
She slides off my shorts. When she starts to lie down, I hook my finger under the hem of her own shorts, tugging a little. Her brows lift and I tug a little harder until she laughs and wiggles them down her legs. They get caught on one ankle and she shakes her foot, sending them flying across the tiny room.
“Oh my god,” she says, lining up her body next to mine and pressing her mouth against my shoulder. “Are we really doing this?”
“I think so,” I say, huffing a laugh. Eva actually giggles, which just makes me laugh harder.
But soon the laughter fades, our shaky breaths the only sound remaining. Her fingers glide over my skin and down my stomach and between my legs, over my underwear. I inhale sharply, my entire body igniting in a way it never has before. I’ve experienced this plenty of times with Jay and a couple other guys, plenty of times alone, but nothing can compare with this, with her.
I bury my hands in her curls, holding on as her fingers slip inside my underwear and touch me. Her mouth is on my neck, then my lips, but not for long because I can’t breathe, can’t share breath. She presses her face to my hair, lips against my ear. My stomach tightens in all the best ways, and soon I’m touching her, too. Our hips seem to reach for each other, hungry for contact, for movement and feeling. It’s not long before I can’t tell the earth from the sky, can’t even remember my own damn name.
There’s only her. Only this.
Soon my world goes white, every nerve in my body firing down to the very tips of my fingers. Her touch slows and stills, but mine remains with her until she tenses and shudders against me too, my name a ragged whisper on her lips. We stay pressed together, both of us trying to get air into our lungs again.
“Wow” is all I can get out.
She laughs. “Yeah?”
“Um, yes.”
She presses her face to my neck. “I was worried I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“You knew enough.”
