Pieces of Summer (A stand-alone novel)(55)

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten… Is that one eleven or was it the one I counted for eight?

Another scream rips free as I struggle harder, wanting to get up and mark them off as I count them so I can stop losing count. My body shakes as more frustration wells inside me, almost manifesting in palpable knots.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…

My body starts to convulse when I lose count again, and the monitor beside me goes wild as the door flings open.

“What’s happening to her?” someone demands, but I’m too busy trying to find my count again.

One, two, three, four, five…

“Her heartbeat is too fast. She’s seizing! I need—”



“Mika!”

I jerk awake, sucking in a painful breath as Chase shakes me gently, staring at me with wide, horrified eyes. “Mika,” he says softer as my heartbeat drums in my ears, matching its beat in my dream… In my memory.

Chase runs his hand along my cheek, brushing away the sweat-damp hair on my face, as I pant for air. I feel my heart slow down, catching up to the present instead of beating in the past.

“Fuck, baby. What the hell were you dreaming? You were screaming and counting.”

Chase hovers over me, searching my eyes for answers. Instead of giving him anything, I pull him down by the back of the neck and kiss him. Hard. Seeking relief in his touch is dangerous, but I need it, and I want him.

He groans into my mouth like he’s torn about what to do, but I keep kissing him, and he doesn’t pull away. He moves his entire body over mine, settling between my legs, as I lose myself to him and let him chase away the sickening memories.

“Mika,” he says hoarsely, breaking the kiss as I grind against him. “What’s going on, baby? What was that dream?”

My breaths are still harsh and labored, but I stare up into his concerned eyes, even though the darkness hides their beautiful color.

“Just make it stop,” I whisper, repeating his words from so long ago when the roles were reversed and I was the one chasing away his nightmares.

His mouth comes back down on mine, and he tears my panties away, moving his body so he can get them off me completely. When he goes for my shirt, I grab his wrists, stopping him.

He breaks the kiss again and leans back.

“This comes off,” he says without letting me argue, pushing it up and over my head even as I cringe.

When his hands slide over my middle, I know he’s feeling the scars, and it shatters the confidence I had ten seconds ago. But when his lips come back to mine, I forget anything else exists and he lifts my hips, angling me against him.

He grinds against me, and nothing but his boxers separate us, giving us a thin barrier of torture. Reaching between us, I slip my hand inside the annoying boxers and grab him, feeling his hard length against my hand. He thrusts against my hold and groans again before shoving his boxers off and kicking them away.

He forces my hands up above my head as he devours me, and I feel the tip of his erection pushing inside as my breath freezes in my lungs and the kiss stops. He leans up, watching me as he slowly pushes forward, finding out I’m ready just from kissing.

It doesn’t take too much to leave me ready right now. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anyone’s touch. Couple that with the fact he’s the only person I’ve ever wanted touching me, and it’s like my body is on sensory overload.

He pushes in deeper, stretching me, and a whimper-moan leaves my lips. With one hard roll of his hips, he sinks all the way in, and I swear my entire body trembles just from the connection.

“Fuck,” he groans into my neck as he buries his face there. “Tell me you’re on the pill,” he whispers.

There’s no point in lying or telling the truth. “I’m safe,” I tell him quietly.

“Thank f*ck,” he says against my neck before rocking his hips again, and I make some strangled, embarrassing sound that proves it’s been too long.

He shifts up onto one elbow, and his eyes find mine in the dark room, holding my gaze as he rocks in and out, setting a slow, torturing rhythm. My hands slide up his firm chest, and one of my hands settles over the bald eagle there, clutching it like it’s mine.

My other hand slides around his neck, digging into his flesh as he drives in and out of me with steady, measured, incredible thrusts. My head tilts back when the sensations wash over me too soon, and my body arches against him, trying to hurry his rhythm when I start rocking against him.

He steadies my hips with one hand, but he jerks me to him as he thrusts in, and it’s the end of me. I shatter and break apart, feeling the explosive orgasm in my stomach unfurl into a rapturous, mind-numbing climax that has me crying out his name and cursing him at the same time.

His thrusts quicken, drawing out the intensity of everything going on inside me at once, and I continue to clench around him as he drop his face to my neck again. When my name rumbles through his lips, my eyes roll back in my head, practically getting high from the way he clings to me and stills at the deepest point.

My legs quiver with aftershock-like tremors, and just his breath against my neck is giving me chills against the overly sensitive flesh of my body. Limply, I run my fingers through his hair, as he holds me to him, wrapping around me the way he always did when we were kids who were trying to figure all this out.