Maybe Someday (Maybe #1)(97)

I hear nothing.

He grabs my hand and opens up my palm, then turns my hand around and places it over my heart. Once my palm is flush against my heart, he reaches to my face and brushes his hand over my eyes, closing them. He scoots himself away from me until he’s no longer touching any part of me.

He becomes still, and I no longer feel him moving next to me.

It’s quiet.

It’s dark.

I hear absolutely nothing. I’m not sure this is working out the way he imagined.

I hear nothing but complete silence. I hear what Ridge hears every moment of his life. The only thing I’m aware of is my own heartbeat and nothing else. Nothing at all.

Wait.

My heartbeat.

I open my eyes and look at him. He’s several inches away from me on the bed, smiling. He knows I hear it. He smiles softly, then pulls my hand away from my heart and places it against his chest. Tears begin to well in my eyes. I have no idea how or if I even deserve him, but there’s one thing I know for sure. As long as he’s a part of it, I’ll never live a life of mediocrity. My life with Ridge will be nothing short of remarkable.

He rolls on top of me and lowers his cheek to mine, holding completely still for several long seconds.

I can’t hear his breaths, but I feel them as they fall against my neck.

I can’t hear his movements, but I feel him when he begins making the softest, most subtle shifts against me.

Our hands are still locked between us, so I focus on the beat of his heart, drumming against my palm.

Beat, beat, pause.

Beat, beat, pause.

Beat, beat, pause.

I can feel my entire body relaxing beneath him while he continues to make the subtlest of movements against me. He presses his hips into mine for two seconds, then relaxes and pulls back for a brief second before repeating the motion. He repeats this movement several times, and I can feel my need for him growing with each rhythmic movement against me.

The more my desire builds, the more impatient I become. I want to feel his mouth on mine. I want to feel his hands all over me. I want to feel him push inside me and make me his completely.

The more I think about what I want from him, the more responsive I become to the subtle shifts of his weight against me. The more responsive I become, the faster our hearts race against the palms of our hands.

Beat, beat, pause.

Beatbeat, pause.

Beatbeatpause.

Beatbeatpause.

The faster our hearts race, the quicker his rhythm becomes, matching each beat of my heart movement for movement.

I gasp.

He’s moving to the sound of my heart.

I wrap my free arm around his neck and focus on his heartbeat, instantly aware that our hearts are perfectly in sync. I tighten my legs around his waist and lift myself against him, wanting him to make my heart beat even faster. He skims his lips across my cheek until they’re flush against my mouth, but he doesn’t kiss me. The silence around me makes me even more aware of the pattern of his breath falling against my skin. I focus on my palm against his chest and feel his quick intake of air, seconds before I taste the sweetness of his breath as he exhales, teasing my mouth.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

His rhythmic breathing becomes quicker when his tongue slips inside my mouth, gently caressing the tip of mine.

If I could hear, I’m positive I would have just heard myself whimper. It’s becoming a habit whenever he’s around.

I move my hand to the back of his head, needing to taste more of him. I pull him to me with such sudden urgency he moans into my mouth. Feeling his moan without hearing it is probably the most sensual thing I’ve ever experienced. His voice as it passes through me does more than hearing it ever could.

Ridge slides his hand away from my heart and presses his forearms into the mattress on both sides of my head. He boxes me in with his arms, and I slide my hand away from his chest, needing to grab hold of him with all my strength. What little I have left, anyway.

I feel him pull farther back, and then, without hesitation, he pushes inside me, claiming me, filling me.

I . . .

Can’t . . .

My heart.

Christ. He just silenced my heart, because I can no longer feel it at all. The only thing I feel is him moving against me . . . away from me . . . inside of me . . . into me. I’m completely consumed by him.

I keep my eyes closed and listen to him without hearing a thing, experiencing him silently, the same way he’s experiencing me. I soak in every single beautiful thing about the smoothness of his skin and the feel of his breath and the taste of our moans, until it’s impossible to tell us apart.

We continue to explore each other quietly, finding all the parts of ourselves we’ve only been able to imagine up to this point.

When my body begins to tense again, it’s not at all because I’m nervous this time. I can sense his muscles clenching beneath my hands, and I grip his shoulders, ready to fall with him. He presses his cheek firmly to mine, and I feel him groan against my neck, making two final, long thrusts at the same second as I feel the moans escaping my throat.

He begins to tremble with his release but somehow pulls his hand between us again and presses it against my heart. He’s shaking against me, and I’m doing my best to regain control of my own shudders while he begins to slow himself down, once again to the rhythm of my heart.

His movements grow so soft and subtle I can barely feel them through all the tears I’m crying. I don’t even know why I’m crying, because this is by far the most indescribable feeling that has ever come over me.