"So you don't need to be shielded from it. What you need to do is let it wash over you, cleansing away all the bad, all the negative, and start over fresh and new."
He holds out his hand to me and I take it.
We walk back to the dorm, the rain soaking us, dripping off of us, purging the fear, sadness, anxiety, grief, guilt, and mistakes of the past, leaving us refreshed and ready to face an untainted future together.
We get backto the dorm and I'm nervous—so nervous and I know he can feel it.
"We don't have to do anything you aren't ready for, Livvy. You're injured and I don't want to hurt you," Bash tells me.
I stand on tiptoe, straining a bit and aching because of it, but the ache between my legs is more urgent. Bash leans down, meeting me half way, and when his lips touch mine, softly, so gently, again, and again, I can finally breathe. It's like, when his lips touched mine, everything became real.
I rest my good hand on his cheek and he threads his hands through my hair, holding my face in his large hands, then he slips his tongue past the seam of my lips and touches mine. Sharp feelings of need—and want—flow through me as he deepens the kiss.
I move my hands down to his waist and slowly pull him with me as I walk backwards into my bedroom. When we're inside, he locks his eyes onto mine, searching.
"Are you sure? There's no rush, Love," he comforts.
I close the door and turn the lock. "I'm sure."
He just keeps staring at me and I let out a laugh.
"What?"
One side of his mouth tips up. "I've waited for this moment and I'm afraid I'm going to fuck it up by hurting you."
My heart warms. "Then let me help you." I slip the jacket off, dropping it to the floor as I toe off my shoes.
Sebastian doesn't move an inch. He just watches and I wonder if he's even breathing.
I manage to get my shirt off and my leggings and socks, but the bra is a bit tricky. Alexa's been helping me get dressed.
"Let me," he offers, moving close, his arms going around me, both hands unhooking my bra, but he doesn't make an attempt to remove it. He leans down and kisses my neck before whispering in my ear, "Be sure, Livvy."
"I am," I whisper back, lowering my arms, letting the bra fall to the floor. I'm standing there in front of this man who's more than my best friend—he's my rock—in a flimsy pair of cotton panties. Leave it to me to have my granny panties on when Bash and I get naked for the first time. I sigh, closing my eyes as my face heats up.
"Hey," he coaxes. I open my eyes. "What is it?"
I smile pitifully. "I'm in my comfy undies and there is nothing sexy about them—at all. I wish I could be sexy for you."
His breath catches. "Livvy, God. You're the sexiest woman alive." I snort in disbelief. He takes my hand and puts it on his erection then lifts a brow. "Still don't believe me?"
"I believe you," I whisper, stunned by the intensity of his need.
He takes off his jacket and it falls to the floor behind him. His shoes are next. He reaches down with one hand and pulls his shirt over his head. How guys do that I'll never know, but it's sexy as hell and I hope he never stops.
He's tattooed all over: his chest, arms, neck, and back. Later I'll study them and see what they're about, but right now he's unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down. Holy hell. He steps out of them, pulls off his socks, and stands there in front of me in only a pair of tight boxer briefs that outline his cock really, really well.
I squeeze my thighs together, wanting so much to feel him inside me, thrusting and bringing me pleasure.
"Livvy," he says and I look up. "You gotta stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?" I ask.
"Like you want to eat me for lunch."
"Maybe I do," I admit, feeling no shame or embarrassment telling him that—which surprises me. Being bold always made me self-conscious. That doesn't seem to be the case with Bash.
He reaches out and pulls my panties down, then his boxers before reaching out for me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me with so much passion I squirm in his arms. My ribs hurt—all my bruises hurt, but I don't care.
