“Please don’t read those articles anymore,” I say quietly, snuggling a little closer to him.
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I love you.” The words come out of my mouth before I even think about saying them. It just happens. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe you’re meant to say those words without even thinking about it. When you just feel it. And I feel it very strongly right now.
“I love you too.” Easton’s voice sends shivers down my back. He smiles, and then he kisses me. It’s a gentle kiss. Just because he wants to kiss me. Because we’re in love with each other.So in love.
Tears fill my eyes because right now, at this moment, I’m so damn happy. I can hardly comprehend it, but somehow I am. It doesn’t matter what gossip magazines write about us. There’s only one truth. Maybe I’m crying a little because Mom and Dad willnever know that I’ve found someone I can love. Someone I want to love.
Easton looks down at me when he tastes the salt on our lips. His gaze is dark, clouded and worried.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, wiping the tears off my cheeks and swallowing the lump in my throat.
“What’s wrong?” He holds my face in both hands, his gaze gentle.
“Nothing,” I reply, shrugging. “I’m just... happy.”
“That’s why you’re crying?”
“Yes.”
“Then they’re happy tears?” A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, a little uncertain and very much like himself.
I nod and blink away the last tears. “Yes, because you make me happy.”
His eyes light up, and when he kisses me this time, it’s different. Slower, deeper.More.A kiss that makes us both forget why he came here and what we were talking about. A kiss that makes me forget everything.
I open my mouth when I feel his tongue, arching my back so my body presses closer to his. I let my hands wander under his sweater again, and he immediately gets goose bumps. I smile against his lips, tugging at the sweater that desperately needs to come off so his skin can touch mine. I want to feel his heat. I want to feelhim.
“Rayne, do you know what you’re doing to me?” he murmurs hoarsely, without taking his mouth off me. His breath caresses my chin and my eyes open. My gaze meets his and his eyes are darker than before, almost black. Dark with desire.
My body reacts instinctively to the excitement in his eyes and the way he’s touching me. Now he’s the one stroking my lips, and my breath catches for a second. Then I lick his fingertip, and he gasps.
“The same thing you’re doing to me,” I say. I press my chest and hips against him. He’s hard already. One kiss, one touch, and he’s hard.
Easton groans as I rub against his erection, the sound sending waves of heat through my entire body. I grab the hem of his sweater; we have to get rid of all our clothes. Right now.
I pull off his sweater while he kicks off his shoes.
I’ve seen him with his shirt off a lot over the last few weeks, but I still haven’t gotten enough of the sight. I can’t help staring at him now.
Next he takes off his pants and stands in front of me in his boxers. I want him so much.
“Take your clothes off,” he whispers, his hands clenching as if he has to stop himself from doing it for me.
He wants me to undress, and even though I’ve done it many times in the last few weeks, even though he’s often watched me do it, this feels different. This time I’m not undressingin frontof him, I’m undressingforhim.
I nod toward the bed. “Sit down.” He does what I want, and I do what he wants.
I’m wearing my usual clothes, leggings and a hoodie. It’s one of his, a fact I’m sure he’s well aware of, judging by the way his gaze wanders over the fabric as I wrap my hands around the hem and then change my mind because I’m not wearing a bra, not evena bustier. Instead, I slide the leggings off first, slowly, with little pauses that make his breath catch.
My movements are smooth and supple. I never thought that dance training would pay off in the bedroom, but turns out it does.
