He moves his hands lower, settling between my spread legs. He slides a forefinger beneath my shorts and slowly runs it down the length of me, over my panties. That little touch zips straight to my core, making me jerk in his grip.
He groans, the coarse sound sending a shudder through me.
“Blue ...” His hands don’t move, but he forces his eyes back to mine. They’re filled with a lust so deep it thrums between us, loud and thick. But beneath the lust, there’s a layer of desperation. “I’m not a good guy. I’m tainted and fucked-up, and I’ve been with too many girls. You get what I’m saying?”
I don’t know how to respond. I’m not even sure I remember how to breathe. I’ve never seen him this way. It’s riveting and a little scary, but this is the first time he’s shown me this part of himself. Despite his words being controlled, like he still isn’t willing to show me everything, his energy is raw, pouring from his soul to mine.
“Okay,” I finally whisper unevenly. “So you like sex.”
A hoarse laugh vibrates through his throat, and he shuts his eyes. “No, Blue. I don’t just like sex.” He opens his eyes again to find mine, and they’re heavy-lidded. “Before I moved here, I lived for it. It came before school, before friends and family, before food—shit, I’d take fucking overbreathing. It’s programmed in my blood, no thanks to my dad and his dad before him.”
Silence rings through the small living room.
“I’ve never done a real relationship, Blue. I’ve never even seen one.”
“Yeah?” I let out a puff of air, my skin still humming. “Well, neither have I. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”
His gaze searches my face for a long moment. “I—” He grits his jaw. “I want to do things to you,” he rasps, a swallow moving down his throat. “Fuck, there are things I’ve imagined doing to you that I’d never say out loud.Thatis what I’m saying. One day, the sick part of me is gonna eat me alive, and if you’re anywhere near me, it’ll take you down with it.”
My heart pounds against my eardrums. I don’t know when my skin got so hot or my palms so clammy, but I’m painstakingly aware of both right now.
Joshua’s expression softens slightly as he watches me, but lust and danger still manage to pierce through. His hand comes up, the backs of his knuckles brushing the curve of my neck. My eyes flutter shut.
“But I’m fucking greedy too,” he says quietly. “I want you for myself anyway.”
Opening my eyes, I latch onto his.
Maybe he’s an addict, maybe not. I get the feeling he doesn’t even know for sure. I can see the fear when he talks about it though—about just the possibility that he might be. The flare of his nostrils when he mentions his dad, the tremor in his hands. It’s like he’s afraid of destroying himself.
I have no idea what it’s like to be addicted to something. To feel powerless to it, or powerless while watching someone close to you get sucked in by its caress. But I do know what it’s like to go after a high. And, truth be told, I don’t think there’s anything else worth living for.
He stiffens when I gently press my hand to his chest, and for a short while, I just listen to it, the natural rhythm inside of him. Just like the last time, it matches my own.
And I feel balance.
We’re more alike than I realized. We’re islands, he and I, standing alone in the middle of enormous, wild oceans. Holding ourselves up even when there’s turbulence.
“Did you know,” I murmur, “there are almost eight billion people on Earth?” His brow furrows, but I keep going. “Sounds like a lot, right? Until you think of the stars. Do you know how many stars there are?”
His gaze roams over my face, and he shakes his head.
“Over one hundred billion. And that’s just our galaxy, not the billions of others. And yet, right now,this,”—I glance down at my palm against his chest—“you, are the only real thing there is to me. We’re floating in this endless sea of universes and life, and somehow, we both wound up right here. Just like this. Tangled up and breathing each other’s air.”
Something flickers across his expression. I don’t know what it is, but his grip on me tightens. His heartbeat quickens beneath my touch. Grabbing one of his hands, I drag it up to my chest, pressing his palm against me. He’s big and warm, and his thumb grazes the top of my breast, just above my shirt. He exhales through his nose as he watches,feels, my body rise up and down beneath his touch.
“So maybe,” I continue, my pulse skittering, “while we’re here, taking up our tiny pockets of space ... we can just breathe. You’ll take, and I’ll take a little too. I’ll give, and maybe you’ll give a little back. Either way, we’rebreathing, Joshua. Let’s not overthink it.”
He glances away, his lips twitching, and rubs the back of his head. “You’re such a damn hippie, you know that?” When he looks back at me, he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, flicking that intense gaze from my eyes to my mouth, and his breath comes out faster. “Such a gorgeous, crazy—”
I scoff and move to shove him when he catches my wrist with one hand, the nape of my neck with the other, and crushes his mouth against mine. I melt against his hard body, my thighs clenching around him.
This kiss is different. Slow, languid. Skilled. Every stroke of his tongue expertly moves against mine, taking, giving, and making my head dizzy. Each little touch brings my soul closer to his.
I grind against him. A strangled noise vibrates from his chest, and I freeze.
Whoops.
“Sorry, sorry,” I rush to say, “I keep forgetting—”
