Come to Me Quietly(105)



“Fuck, Aly, you feel so good.” So good. Perfect. Almost as if she were truly mine.

With my words, she whimpered, and I gave myself over to her. Pleasure knotted at the base of my spine and spread down the back of my thighs. I throbbed and ecstasy hit. Spasms jerked through my body, every nerve alive. With my face buried in the crook of her neck, I cried out, her name on my tongue the only f*cking thing that made any sense. Gasping, I searched for air, smelled the delicious coconut and the good and the girl. I gathered her up, my face still hidden in her warmth, hugged her to me closer than I ever had before.

“Aly” whispered from my mouth.

My Aly.

I wound a finger in her hair.

I’d given in, chased after her comfort.

Now there’d be hell to pay.



EIGHTEEN


Aleena



Jared had made love to me. Completed me.

We lay on our sides, face-to-face, his warm hand cradling the side of my face. “You beautiful girl,” he murmured, kissing me softly.

Emotion swamped me, filled my heart, and expanded my chest.

“Are you okay?” Jared tilted his head back to read my eyes.

I blinked and whispered, “Yes,” because it was the truth. I was perfect, so long as he stayed.

It was a Friday night, and I stood in front of the TV in the living room, playing DanceStar. Laughter bubbled up from my gut. Music blared from the speakers set up around the TV. I was in front of it, wondering why I couldn’t get my feet to keep up with my brain as I watched the character dancing on the TV and tried to mirror his steps. I held the controller in my left hand. The glowing sensor bulb at the top seemed like the perfect stand-in mic. Without remorse, I screamed Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself” into the prop.

I couldn’t hold a tune. Not to save my life.

But tonight, I just didn’t care.

Megan jumped around beside me. Blond hair whipped dangerously close to my face as she swung her head around, completely offbeat.

Christopher sat directly behind her on the couch, and she bounced back to shake her butt in his face. “It’s your duty to shake your booty,” she sang over my fruitless attempt to win points by keeping in tune with the song, her tiny frame wiggling all over.

Yeah. She and Christopher had been doing shots of tequila in the kitchen.

Christopher covered his face with his hands, laughing so hard he fell to his side on the couch. “Holy hell, you two suck so bad.”



I stuck my tongue out at him, then turned and belted the song even louder near Megan’s face, held the mic between us so she could sing along. Giving up on the choreographed moves, the two of us busted out in some impromptu dance, uninhibited and free.

Laughter overtook the words I tried to sing. I’d really never known joy like this. I’d always been happy, but I’d never known the intense satisfaction that came with being loved. It was something that seeped down into the marrow of my bones and pervaded every fiber of my being.

Not once had he told me, but I knew he did. I felt it, even when it clearly was something impossible for Jared to see. Something he didn’t recognize himself. But I took him for what he was, this beautifully broken boy who deserved every touch I gave while I treasured every single one he returned.

On what had become his side of the couch, he sat nursing a beer, his legs casually stretched out in front of him. Playful blue eyes glinted their amusement as he watched us dance in the middle of the living room.

Almost a month had passed since the first time he made love to me. Every day since had been an exploration of hands and tongues and bodies that couldn’t get enough.

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