“I know, but I am.”
“I get it.” He rubs my back, soothing me to my very core. Between his touch, his warmth, and his words, I feel my body lean into the safety he’s offering, so I wrap my arms around him, sinking into his hold and letting all the worries, all the anxiety just drip away.
And we stand there, under the cloudy sky, the crickets chirping around us, the breeze rustling the trees, just holding each other, two hurting souls, for vastly different reasons, finding comfort in one another.
I’m not sure how long we stand there, but it isn’t until the first drop of rain falls from above that I’m brought back to the present, where we are standing outside late at night.
“It’s raining,” I say.
“It is,” he responds, still holding me, the rain starting to come down a little bit more.
“We should go back to our respective homes.”
“Probably.” He strokes my back, not letting me go.
“It will pour.”
“Then let it pour,” he says, cupping the back of my head. “I’m not done here.”
“Will you ever be done?” I ask as the rain picks up, water dotting my face now.
“With you? No.”
I stare up at him, at those genuine eyes, at the way the water clings to his lashes. This is the real him. This is all of him, and he’s so effortlessly handing himself over.
My hand moves to the back of his head and as the rain falls all around us, soaking me to my bones, I lift up on my toes and press a kiss to his lips, capturing this man and everything he’s worth.
In this moment, I steal his kindness. I steal his comfort. And I steal his body as I press mine into his, open my mouth, and let my tongue explore.
His hand grips the back of my tank top, twisting it into his fist as he brings me in closer, angling my jaw up so he can return my kisses, but he makes them deeper, more potent.
I cling to him like a lifesaver, not wanting to let go, not wanting this to end. I let him explore, dive deeper, grip me in a way that tells the world I’m his.
No one else’s.
And I live for the feeling.
I love the feeling.
I crave the intensity, the possessiveness, because no one has treated me like this before. He treats me like I’m so precious that if he lets go, he might lose me forever.
It’s intense, it’s magical. As the rain pours all around us, drenching us, he remains attached to me, never letting me escape.
His tongue runs along my lips, and then against his again, leading me with open-mouth kisses, guiding me into so much more as my nipples go hard, pressing into his chest, my legs feeling weak and numb as he helps me forget everything around me.
I want him on the ground.
I want him out of his clothes.
I want him to feel me, touch me, experience me.
I want?—
“Fuck,” he says, pulling away and staring down at me. His eyes are wild, his breath heavy. “You’re…you’re soaked, Renley.”
“I don’t care,” I say, shaking my head.
“I care,” he answers. “I don’t want you catching a cold.”
