“Come here,” she whispers, holding her arms out for me. In two long strides, I’m in front of her. I push several wispy curls off her forehead. Then, I glide my fingers across her cheek and jaw, along her neck, and down the valley between her breasts.
“You are so beautiful,” I whisper, rubbing my thumb along the underside of her breast. She bunches the hem of my shirt in her hands. I lift my arms, and she takes my shirt off, tossing it to the side.
“You’re beautiful.” Hannah skims her hands down my chest, then leans in, placing a small kiss over my left pec. I shudder at the feel of her warm lips on my skin. I tuck my thumbs into my shorts and boxer briefs, pushing them down my hips, and then kick them away.
I help Hannah lay down on the blanket, and I kneel between her legs, putting on the condom. I trail kisses along her collarbone and her chest. I scrape my teeth over her hard, puckered nipple and then soothe it with my tongue. Her chest arches off the ground. She bites her lip to keep her moan at bay, and her hands rake down my back. Hannah yanks on my hair, and I move back up her body, pressing my lips to hers. Our kiss is tongues and teeth and everything we feel for each other. I get so lost in Hannah that the need for breath seems inconsequential. “I love you, Ford.” She pants when we break apart, gulping for air. She kisses my jaw and down my neck to my shoulder, where she bites me, then soothes away the sting with her tongue and mouth. The feeling is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I bury my head in Hannah’s neck, groaning.
“Did you like that?” She breathes against the shell of my ear, giving it a light kiss.
“I loved it. Hannah, you’re my world.” I glide my hand down Hannah’s side, tracing the slope of her breast and the curve of her hip. I dip my fingers between her legs, making sure she’s ready, and then I sit up, bringing her with me. I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her up, sliding into her. I press my mouth to hers as she lets out a long, languid moan. “Hanny, I love your sounds, but tonight we’ve got to be quiet.”
“You make it hard to be slient.” She whispers against my lips. I hold her to me, rubbing my hand up and down her soft skin. “I’ll be quiet. Just don’t stop.”
“You’re on top tonight, Baby.” I grip her hips, guiding her, showing her how to move. Her movements are jerky and sporadic at first, but when she finds a rhythm, I join her, thrusting my hips in tandem with hers. I keep my mouth pressed to hers, swallowing all her beautiful sounds.
“Ford,” Hannah breathes, resting her head in the crook of my neck.
“What is it, Baby?”
“I don’t want forever.”
My heart glitches in my chest, and I rub a hand down her back, trying to steady myself. “What do you mean?”
“I want this moment right now. I want tomorrow. I want next week and next year. I want ten years from now.” She looks at me and wraps her hands around my face, pushing the damp hair off my forehead. “I want you for the rest of my life. After that, we can worry about forever.”
“Hannah—” My voice cracks with emotion, and I press my mouth to hers. “For the rest of our lives and then forever.”
“Does that scare you?” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“It scares me every day. But the idea of not being with you makes it hard to breathe.”
“For the rest of our lives and then forever.” She echoes my earlier words. “Show me how much you love me, Crawford Cross,” she whispers over my lips with a mischievous smile.
I lay Hannah back on our makeshift bed and crawl over her, settling between her thighs letting some of my weight over her and bringing us face to face. And I show her how much I love her. How much I want her at this moment. How much I want her for the rest of our lives.
33. Worn Photograph
Ford rolls us, so I’m partially underneath him, and he pulls the blankets over us. He makes lazy circles along my hip, and I doze for a while. I wake up when he moves. “No, don’t go.”
He brushes my hair off my forehead, kissing my temple. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” I wrap the blanket around me and curl into a ball. This is the part I dread after being together. That it ends. I want to stay wrapped up in Ford for the rest of the night. To wake up in each other’s arms, but we don’t get that. All we get are stolen moments. Ford comes back, spooning with me, wrapping his legs and arms around me like a cocoon. “Did you check the time?”
“Yes, it’s a little after four,” Ford says, kissing my neck.
I nod, so he knows I’ve heard him.
“I set the alarm on my phone for five.”
I turn around so I can hold him. We hear Jack’s bedroom door creak open, and he pads across the hall to the bathroom. Ford tightens his hold on me. I should feel guilty for having sex in my parent’s home, and across the hall from Jack. But I don’t. If I asked an adult about my feelings for Ford, they’d tell me it’s my raging teenage hormones. What I feel for him is so far beyond that. Maybe it all feels this way because everything’s so messed up with this website business, and our relationship is on display for the world to see. There’s so much more to my and Ford’s relationship than these stolen moments. More than just being girlfriend and boyfriend.
“Hannah,” Ford breathes into my neck. I squeeze him tighter to me, wringing out a few more moments with him.
“I know. Will you help me?” I ask.
“Yes.” Ford helps me up, and we search the floor for scattered pieces of clothing. I help him make the bed, so it looks like no one ever slept in it.
“What did you do with the condom?” I ask, afraid he threw it in the bathroom’s trash can.
