“Lindsay,” he whispered, slowly lowering himself on top of me. “God, Lindsay.”
I wrapped my legs around him, and we started to kiss again. His hands found my breasts. They were completely loose from my bra now, and my nipples were hard. His hand slid down over my stomach and across my hips, his finger dipping under my jeans but over my panties.
“Touch me,” I whispered into his ear. “Please. I want you to touch me.”
His fingers slid down my hips and then across my leg to my thigh. He was so close to touching me there, in between my legs, that it was making me dizzy. I shifted slightly, trying to move myself into his fingers, but as soon as I did, he pulled back.
“No,” he whispered, then slid his hand back up to my face. He ran his thumb gently over my jaw line. “You don’t get to be in control.”
“I don’t want to be in control,” I said. “I just want you to take me.” I had never spoken any truer words. The emotions I was feeling right then were so overpowering.
I’d never experienced anything like it. I wanted to get caught up in the moment, to lose complete control for once in my life.
He began kissing me again, and this time, the intention behind it was clear. The kiss intensified, his hands roaming over my body, teasing my bare skin and making me shiver.
He pulled back for a moment, pushing my hair out of my face. “God,” he breathed. He pushed the straps of my bra down over my shoulders and kissed my collarbone softly. “You are so beautiful.”
I bit my lip to keep from moaning. How could this boy who I’d just met make me feel these wonderful, amazing things that I didn’t even know were possible? A wave of longing washed over me. It was the weirdest sensation – almost like I missed him.
Which was impossible, since he was right there with me, his body so close to mine that we almost felt like one.
But a part of me knew the closeness was fleeting. Emotionally I wondered if he would ever let me in. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, thinking about what it would feel like if he ever confided in me, if he ever broke down his walls and really just let me in. What would it be like? Would I find the reason he kept everyone at arm’s length?
Would I be shocked? Scared? I didn’t think so. Instead, I was sure that if Justin ever decided to confide in me completely, it would be even more amazing and wonderful than what I was feeling right now.
The longing for that kind of closeness overtook me, and I didn’t realize I was crying until Justin brushed a tear from my cheek.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, rolling off me and onto the other side of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. I needed him back, kissing me, touching me, making me forget.
“Something must be,” he said. He propped himself up on his elbow. “You’re crying.”
“No, I’m not.” I pushed the tears off my cheeks. “I’m fine.” I reached for him, but he moved back, keeping a distance between us. “What?” I demanded. “Now you don’t want me?”
He shook his head. “Not like this.”
“Not like what?”
“Not if you’re going to use it to hide whatever it is that’s really going on.”
I gaped at him. “There’s nothing really going on!” I said. “I want to have sex is what’s going on.”
I reached for him and kissed him, this time letting my hand slide down his pants and over his boxers.
“Jesus, Lindsay,” he said, and pulled my hand out. He intertwined his fingers with mine. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m trying to give you what you want.”
“I told you,” he said. “I don’t want it like that.” He pushed his hips up and buttoned his pants, but not before I got another long look at his washboard stomach.
“Is that what you told Brooklyn?” I muttered before I could stop myself. I knew I was being a baby, but I didn’t care.
“Are you kidding me right now?” He propped himself back up on his elbow and shook his head. “You give me shit about how you want sex to mean something, and then when I actually try to make it mean something, you give me crap about not doing it.” He shook his head. “I can’t figure you out sometimes.”
“Yeah, because I’m the one who’s a big mystery in this relationship,” I said sarcastically. “I’m the one who has the police showing up at their apartment out of nowhere and then not saying a word about why.” I put my shirt back on and then rolled over, turning my back to him. I couldn’t help it. I knew I was acting childish. But my feelings were hurt. I wanted him, and even though I knew he was right, that us having sex shouldn’t be motivated by me wanting to forget about my shitty day, it still felt like some kind of rejection.
“Hey,” he said softly. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me close to him. “I’m sorry about this morning. I shouldn’t have kicked you out like that.”
“You’re right,” I said. “You shouldn’t have.”
He didn’t say anything else for a moment. We just laid there, him holding me close, our breathing falling into a soft rhythm.