Like Gravity(40)

“You barely know me. And if you did…you might not like me so much any more. I’m sure you’ve heard my reputation…” I swallowed my embarrassment, looking anywhere but at him.

“It doesn’t matter, Bee.”

“But–” I protested.

“Look, I can’t f*cking explain it, okay? I’m no good at this. All I can tell you is that it feels like the most natural thing in the world for me to be near you – like I was put on this earth just to breathe your air and tell you how beautiful you are. To make you laugh at my dumbass jokes, and hold you in my arms when you’re sad. And I don’t want to control you, or own you, or change you. I just want you, no matter who you are or what your past is. I don’t care about the other guys, or anything that happened before we got together, because all that shit made you you.” He inhaled deeply. “Being near you, Brooklyn…it’s like breathing. I don’t have a choice about it; I just have to do it or I know I won’t survive very long.”

His eyes were so startlingly earnest as he spoke the words, there was no way I could doubt the truth behind them. I’d thought he was done, but apparently he still had more to say; when he continued speaking, his tone had gentled and his gaze had grown serious.

“Even when I’m not with you, I can feel myself being drawn wherever you are, like a goddamned physical tether connects us. And it’s not going away; if anything, it’s getting stronger the more time I spend with you.”

He swallowed roughly.

“I’ve never felt anything like this before, and I know you feel it too,” he said, his voice low. “It’s undeniable – like a magnetic force. Like gravity. And it’s not something I can control, or change, or stop. It just is.”

His eyes softened as he recognized the raw fear in mine. “Don’t be scared, Bee. Don’t you know I’d never hurt you?”

“I know that,” I whispered, realizing it was true as soon as the words left my mouth. He’d been protecting me since the day we met. From fire hydrants, from Gordon, even from myself.

He slowly leaned toward me, resting his forehead against mine and closing his eyes. “I don’t think I can stay away from you anymore,” he admitted quietly, exhaling a breath and trying to shake off some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Then don’t,” I said simply, my mouth twisting up in a smile as his eyes popped open. His blue eyes stared into mine for a fraction of a second, evaluating whether or not I was serious, and then his mouth crashed down against mine.

His lips were demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips and seeking entrance almost immediately. He backed me even more firmly against the truck, his body pressed flush against mine. My hands found their way into his unruly dark hair and I pulled him closer, standing on my tiptoes to reach him.

He smelled deliciously of fall again, and tasted even better. I grumbled a complaint when his mouth left mine to trail kisses along my jawline and down my neck. He laughed at the sound, a dark sexy chuckle that nearly set my panties on fire with want. Needing more, I hooked a leg around his waist and tried to pull him closer. He must’ve shared my thoughts – his hands immediately cupped my ass as he lifted me from the ground, allowing both my legs to wrap around his waist as he held me pinned against the truck. Tugging on his hair, I managed to get his lips off my neck and back on mine.

Usually when I kissed someone new for the first time, there was an adjustment period – a few fumbling moments spent learning how his mouth moved and adapting to it.

It wasn’t like that with Finn. It was like our mouths knew each other, like my lips had been designed to fit exclusively with his. I wasn’t a religious person; I didn’t believe in past lives or reincarnation. But if someone had asked me in that moment if I’d ever lived before, I would’ve said yes, because I must have known Finn before this lifetime. Kissing him was like coming home after an impossibly long journey – one so long I’d not only forgotten what home looked like, but that it even existed in the first place.

Our mouths explored, a passionate melding of lips and tongues and teeth. I wanted to drink him in, to bottle him up and carry him around with me so I’d never be without this feeling again – this sensation of completeness, of utter rightness – that made me ache with the need to laugh and weep and lose myself in him.

I gasped when I shifted in his arms and felt the strength of his arousal through his jeans. Finally seeming to realize that we were in a compromising position in the middle of the street, Finn pulled his face away from mine and looked into my eyes as he tried to slow his breathing. His eyes were dark, hazy with desire and surely matching the look in mine.

“We have to slow down,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.

I groaned in response.

Laughing, he set me down on my feet and wrapped his arms around me. My arms twined around his neck and my head nestled into the crook of his neck. A feeling of contentment filled me when his chin came to rest on top of my hair, and I thought back to the first time we’d hugged like this. I remembered thinking how well we fit together, like two missing puzzle pieces. After tonight, that feeling was only amplified.

“Come on,” he said, detangling our limbs. “Let me walk you to your door.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “Don’t even try. I’m walking you to your damned door, Bee.”