Saylor’s grin widens, his insecurities forgotten. “Yes,” he admits, his eyes never leaving mine. “Would that be okay?”
“Of course,” I reply, my smile matching his. “But we’re not getting some eighties love song,” I tease, arching an eyebrow.
He pouts briefly, but then it transforms into a mischievous grin. “Fine, I’m open to suggestions, but make them good.” His fingers reach out to stroke my upper arm.
To be honest, I know what song makes me think about him. It was on the radio one of the nights I was alone at the campsite a few miles from here, and I scrambled to look up the name. I connect my phone, playing “Bridges” by Aisha Badru on repeat before setting it aside and laying down next to him where he’s now laying on the bed.
“That’s our song for me,” I whisper, leaning closer to Saylor. “But you have a veto right.” I smile as the first beats fill the van.
Saylor’s initial grin gradually fades as he focuses intently on the lyrics, his expression shifting from playfulness to a more serious demeanor. He nods in rhythm with the beat, his eyes locked onto mine.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Does he like it?
Maybe we should have just stuck to a silly eighties ballad. There are good ones, after all.
His gaze turns intense when the chorus comes on, his eyes brimming with tears. He scoots closer, his hand cupping the side of my head. Starting with my forehead, he plants sweet, lingering kisses, moving down to my nose, then my cheeks.
“That’s the one,” he whispers, leaning in, lips hovering just above mine.
I feel the electric charge of his touch as our lips make contact in a soft, lingering kiss that sends shivers down my spine.
Saylor’s fingers glide along the curve of my cheek, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. I move closer to him, as close as can be. His hands explore the contours of my body, tracing the curves and dips with a feather-light touch. I arch my back, desperate for more.
“The things I would do right now if I could,” he whispers in my ear, his voice laced with longing and desire.
“What would you do?” I ask breathlessly, eager to hear where his thoughts wandered off.
“I’d bury my dick so deep inside you that whoever pulled me out would be crowned King of England,” he mumbles into my neck. I bark a laugh that turns into a gasp when his lips move to just underneath my ear, causing goose bumps to rise in their wake.
“You’re the worst.” I giggle softly, putting my hand on the back of his head, and he groans into my neck.
“Am I?” He leans back and searches my eyes. “Or just honest?” His intense gaze makes me gulp, and the tension rises in the van’s confined space. “Would you take off your clothes for me? Please? I want to try something,” Saylor pleads gravelly, kissing my cheek.
Oh my God.
I scramble to lose my clothes, and Saylor watches me with a chuckle, smirking at my enthusiasm. I reveal more skin, shuddering slightly at the cold air hitting me, but his gaze still almost burns me with desire. Finally, I lay back on the bed beside him, literally splayed out naked for him again while he’s lying on his side, leaning over to kiss me. One of his hands lands on my stomach, making the tingling sensation spread from the inside out, and I squirm.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you,” he whispers, our faces so close that the tips of our noses are touching. He lets his hand wander up to my cheek, cupping it and stroking me. “You’re always talking about the light, but have you seen yourself? You’re like Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Next to you, everything else looks dimmed.”
“Saylor,” I whisper, my voice choked.
I want to tell him.
To let him know how much he means to me.
But his hand takes a slow, unhurried path down my throat to my breast, and the words get stuck in my throat. The feeling is intense, the tingles on my naked skin prickling, goose bumps spreading over every inch of my body. Saylor licks his lips as he watches his fingers circling my nipple, which is already peaked and rock-hard. He can’t grab or tweak it, but the feeling is like he’s gliding a feather over my skin, leaving a vibrating sensation in its wake.
“What did you want to try?” I ask breathlessly, my patience wearing thin.
I need him.
Whatever he can give me.
His hand slides even further down, circling my belly button. “You know, I was wondering how it would feel like…” He trails off as his hand wanders further south.
“How what would feel like?” I ask, shivering when he finally strokes me where I need him, letting out a soft moan and closing my eyes.
