Breathe with Me (With Me in Seattle, #7)(3)

“That won’t fit in me,” I say and then feel my face flush hot. Geez shut the f*ck up, Meredith!

“It will,” he promises and nudges my gaze back up to his and kisses me some more. He knows I love the kissing. He lies on top of me and cradles my head in his hands and kisses me silly, nibbling my lips and nuzzling my nose with his. Just when my stomach muscles loosen, he nudges between my legs and I can feel him there.

“Oh God,” I rasp with a panic.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby.”

“I’m really nervous,” I say and bite my lip, watching his face.

“Are you still sure? Or just nervous about what it will feel like?”

“Just nervous about what it will feel like,” I respond truthfully.

“Just look at me, M. It’s just me.” He eases inside just a bit and it hurts—f*ck, it hurts!— but then it doesn’t hurt so bad. “Breathe with me, Meredith.”

He takes a deep breath and I follow him, watching his eyes with all of my attention, and as we breathe together, he slips even farther inside me. His brow is breaking out in a sweat and he licks his lips nervously, and I can see that he’s just as nervous as I am.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers softly.

“I love you too.”

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

He links his fingers with mine and holds our hands against the bed next to my head. God, he’s so damn big. And it’s uncomfortable, but it feels really, different. Full. Our breaths are coming really fast, and then he starts to move, like he just can’t help it. His hips pull back and then push back in, slow at first and then faster.

“Oh my God, this is so f*cking amazing,” he says with awe. “I’m so glad you’re my first, M.”

“Me too,” I say, happy that he’s talking. It seems awkward when we’re quiet. We talk nonstop. “I’m so happy that we waited for each other.”

“I want to be your only, baby.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s you and me, M and M, against the world.” His hips are moving faster, and I can feel my eyes fill with tears as his whole body tenses. God, I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. It’s as though we’re not just connected physically, but in every way. “Oh God, baby. I’m going to come.”

“Okay.” I caress his face with my hands. “That’s a good thing, right? Come, M.”

“Oh, shit.” His face contorts in this weird mask, like he’s in immense pain, and I can’t take my eyes off him. Wow.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly.

“I think I’m supposed to ask you that,” he replies, breathing hard.

“I’m really good,” I say and smile reassuringly. But you need to pull out because… ow.

“I love you, M.” He leans his forehead on mine gently.

“I love you too, M.”

***

One year later



I’ve never been this f*cking nervous in my life. Not even that first time that Mark and I had sex. I grin as I think back on that night, and the many, many times we’ve had sex since then. My Mark is insatiable and we’ve learned so much about each other over the past year.

He’s not going to be mine much longer.

I pull in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I see his car pull into my driveway. We graduated from high school last week. It was a proud moment for both of us, for our families, who threw us a huge party.

And we’re supposed to leave for New York City together in two days.

“Hey, baby,” he says with his signature naughty grin as he meets me on the porch and hugs me close. “Are you packing?”

“Yes,” I reply and bury my nose in his neck, knowing this might be the last time I have the right to do this.

“What’s wrong?” He pulls away and studies my face. He knows me too damn well. “M?”

“I don’t think you should come with me to New York,” I say it really fast, like pulling off a Band Aid.

He blinks and frowns. “What are you talking about? We’ve been talking about this for the past year.”

“I know, it’s just…” I push my fingers through my hair and barely hold on to my sanity. “I need to concentrate on dance, Mark.”

“Okay.” He shakes his head like he just doesn’t get it. “Why the change of heart?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“How long?”

“A few months,” I whisper. Since the day my instructor pulled me aside when she caught me daydreaming about Mark and yelled at me about responsibilities and how hard it’s going to be in New York.

“Months?” He rubs his fingers over his mouth and begins to look a little panicked. “Mer, where is this coming from? Is there someone else?”

“Of course not!” I gape at him like he’s lost his marbles. “You know I love you so much it hurts!”

“Then why?”

“Because I have to concentrate on dance, Mark. This is going to be the hardest thing I ever do. The days are super long, and it’s so competitive.”

“So you’re saying I’ll just be in the way?” He props his hands on his hips and glares at me and I feel the first tear fall.