Maybe Someday(108)



pen. He doesn’t have to verbalize it when his

eyes clearly state it for him.

He moves the pen slowly up my neck. I natur-

ally tilt my head to the side, and as soon as I do, I hear a rush of air hiss quietly through his teeth.

He comes to a stop just below my ear. I squeeze

my eyes shut and hope my heart doesn’t explode

when he leans in, because it definitely feels as if

it could. His lips press gently against my skin,

and I swear the room flips upside down.

Or maybe that was just my heart.

One of my hands slides up his arm and grasps

the back of his head, not wanting him to pull

away from this spot. His tongue makes another

quick appearance against my neck, but he doesn’t

let my desperation stall him. He lifts away and

looks back down at me. His eyes are smiling,

knowing how crazy he’s driving me.

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He rolls the pen from the spot below my ear,

back down my neck, and around to the dip in the

base of my throat. Before kissing the spot he just

marked, he grabs me by the waist and lifts me up,

sliding me onto his lap.

I grasp his arms and suck in a rush of air the

second he pulls me against him. My T-shirt slides

up my thighs, and the fact that I’m not wearing

anything under it except underwear pretty much

guarantees that I’ve gotten myself into something

that’s going to be damn hard to pull away from.

His eyes drop to the base of my throat as he

slides a hand up my thigh, over my hip, and all

the way up and into my hair. He grasps the back

of my head, then pulls my neck against his

mouth. This kiss is harder and not at all cautious

like the rest of them. I slide my hands into his

hair and keep his mouth pressed against my neck.

He works his kisses all the way up my neck

until his mouth meets my chin. Our bodies are

meshed firmly together, and one of his hands has

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found my lower back and is keeping me flush

against him.

I can’t move. I’m literally panting for breath,

wondering where in the hell the strong Sydney

went. Where’s the Sydney who knows this

shouldn’t be happening?

I’ll look for her later. After he finishes with his

pen.

He pulls away when his lips come close to my

mouth. Our bodies are as close as they can get

without his mouth being on mine. He removes

his hand from my lower back and brings the pen

back around to my throat. When he touches the

tip of it to my skin, I gulp, anticipating which dir-

ection he’s about to go with it.

North or south, north or south. I don’t really

care.

He begins to scroll upward, but then he stops.

He pulls the pen away from my neck and shakes

it, then touches it to my neck again. He makes

another movement upward with the pen but stops

again. He pulls back slightly and frowns at the

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pen, which I’m assuming has just run out of ink.

He looks back at me and tosses the pen over my

shoulder. I hear it land on the floor behind me.

His eyes drop to my lips, which I’m assuming

would have been the pen’s final destination.

We’re both breathing heavily, knowing exactly

what’s about to come next. What we’re about to

experience again for the second time, knowing

how much our first kiss affected us.

I think he’s as terrified as I am right now.

I’m leaning all my weight into him, because

I’ve never been this weak. I can’t think, I can’t

move, I can’t breathe. I just . . . need.

He brings both hands to my cheeks and looks

directly into my eyes.

“Your call,” he whispers.

Jesus Christ, that voice.

I stare at him, not sure if I like that he just put

the control in my hands. He wants this to be my

decision.

It’s so much easier having someone else to

blame when things go where they shouldn’t. I

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know we shouldn’t be putting ourselves into a

situation we’re only going to regret once it’s

over. I could put a stop to it right here. I could

make it easier by asking him to leave now, rather

than when things get even more complicated

between us. I could slide off his lap and tell him

he shouldn’t be here because he hasn’t even had

time to forgive himself for what happened with

Maggie. I could tell him to go away and not

come back until his heart isn’t confused anymore

about who it wants.

If that day ever comes.

There are so many things I could and should

and need to do, but none of them is what I want

to do.

The pressure picks the worst possible time to

break me. The worst possible time.

I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel a tear begin

to work its way out. It trickles down my cheek,

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