“What are you afraid of?”
“You.”
I close my eyes and hum, moving my hand back and forth over his ribs in what I hope is a very comforting manner. It’s only been a relatively short period of time since we first met on the beach. Every sunrise seems a promise now, every sunrise a reminder of that initial meeting.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“I know. You’re so perfect, guys like you don’t exist.”
“I’m here under the covers with you as a hurricane rages outside. I think nice guys like me exist, Tuck.”
“Say it again,” Tucker begs, suddenly closer than he was before.
“Tuck?”
“I like it.” Tucker presses his hand against my neck, fingers cold and trembling. I hold my breath as he comes closer, my eyes opening to find him close enough to kiss without leaning that much more forward. “Charlie.”
Just as I think he’s about to lean in and kiss me, a loud bang echoes through the house again, this time very much not a fuse, but something hard and unrelenting. Cupcake barks and takes off at the speed of light. We both separate, and I feel the absence of Tucker like a physical weight in my rib cage.
We get out of bed and walk through the house. The kitchen lights are still on, but the darkness outside, combined with the storm, makes it impossible to know exactly where the noise is coming from. We must’ve forgotten to put something away, and it’s banging against the house. I check the French doors that lead to the back porch, but I can’t seeanything even with the floodlights on outside. The noise doesn’t come again, but now I’m wide awake.
“Now we’re awake,” Tucker says softly, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. I can’t have that.
“Guess it’s time for a dance party.”
Tucker visibly brightens. “Really?”
“Really.”
“I’ll grab my phone.” Tucker disappears down the hallway, and I watch him go without a trace of embarrassment. He’s always pretty, but something about a comfortable Tucker really does it for me. Maybe it’s more that he’s comfortable in my home than anything else.
I’m sitting on the couch petting Cupcake when Tucker returns, phone in his hand. He’s scrolling thoughtfully through his phone, no doubt trying to find the very best playlist for our impromptu hurricane party. Because Tucker is always going to surprise me, he lands on a 1990s playlist. Cupcake dances between us as we sway our hips to Salt-N-Pepa, Aaliyah, and Mariah Carey. Tucker’s eyes are closed, a smile on his lips, and his arms are in the air as he dances without any hint of worry. I stop dancing and just stand to watch him, only worrying about how I look when his eyes open to catch mine. “U Got It Bad” by Usher comes on and Tucker’s movements slow, his hips taking on a slow whirl instead of an upbeat dance.
He takes a step closer into my space, wrapping his palms around my overheated neck. Again, out of instinct, I wrap my arms around his waist, letting him lead us in a sensual sway that makes the living room feel one hundred million degrees too warm. He sings some of the words slowly to me, then glides his hands down my arms to use his grip to push me toward the sofa. I fall in a helpless heap, limbs gangly anduncoordinated. I can’t help but stare up at him in amazement as he fits himself between my spread legs, still dancing as the song goes on.
“Tucker,” I say reverently, putting every emotion I can think of into his name.
“Tonight doesn’t count,” Tucker says quietly. “Hurricane rules. We can do anything, and it won’t count in the morning. Kinda like Vegas.”
“I don’t want it to not count,” I tell him, because it’s true. I want every moment to count.
“Fuck,” Tucker swears just before crashing down into me, his gently muscled arms going around my neck and his lips feverishly moving against mine.
He tastes like toothpaste, sleep, and a breath after years of being underwater. I wrap my arms around his back, turn to the side, and collapse to the sofa so he falls on top of me. He grunts against my mouth but doesn’t stop kissing me. Every glide of his lips feels like new life, feels like my heart might explode from the promise of the future. I can’t imagine never kissing him again. I have to show him that kissing me is safe, that giving me his heart will be a painless exercise, despite what that piece of shit did to him in the past. I can’t imagine ever talking down to Tucker. I can’t imagine ever making him sad on purpose. His lips were made to smile.
Tucker frames my face with his hands as he tilts my head to the side, licking into my mouth like he can’t get enough of me. Like he wants to consume me. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as I can get him. He groans deeper into my mouth, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
“Shirt off, shirt off,” I mumble against Tucker’s addictive mouth.
“Fuck,” Tucker swears for the second time in the span of minutes.
He leans back, tugs off his shirt, and my stomach swoops with desire. Even in the dark I can tell his eyes are blown with want, lips parted as he breathes quickly, as if he can’t even try to catch his breath while looking down at me. I want this man in my bed, I want him pressed against me, but I’m also conscious of the speed in which we’re moving and how maybe he’s not ready for it.
“I want you,” Tucker says against my mouth just before kissing me breathless again. His lips are lush, his mouth wet, and my toes curl as he kisses me like only the two of us exist in the world. Like all points narrow in on us, only our mouths exist as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. Well, there goes the thought of slowing down. Yeah, I want him too, but I don’t think tonight is the night. It’s too soon for him, forus.
“Wait,” I say lowly enough to not frighten him. Tucker pulls away, all kiss-bitten lips and wide eyes, pupils blown so wide I can barely see the blue. “Wait, sorry. I… I think we should go slow. It’s been a while for me.”
Tucker leans up on his arms, an angel above me in the glow of the hurricane-dark room. He lifts his left hand to swipe his thumb over my lips, and I gasp against his lust-warmed skin. He dips his thumb inside with his lips parted wide open in awe. I suck on his thumb, swirling my tongue around the pad of it, wanting to taste every inch of him. Tucker looks stunned, and that look alone makes me feel invincible.
