“Oh God, Silas,” I called out, my body responding to his touch. I felt like he was taking me higher and higher.
He grasped a handful of hair, pulling my head back and holding me tight against him as he thrust inside me and kissed my ear. When he spoke, the warmth of his breath on my ear had me so far gone I couldn’t think about anything except being melded to him.
His touch.
His lips.
His cock.
Everything was a blur of sensation.
“You are so tight, Tempest,” he said, thrusting into me harder. Letting go of my hair, he gripped the sides of my waist, my ass pressed so tightly against him that I couldn't think about being apart from him.
"Silas," I cried out. Every cell in my body was on fire with his touch. My palms against the cool window, I closed my eyes, shutting out everything else except him and me.
Silas' touch, his breath, the heat of his body... those were the only things that mattered.
I rode the wave of pleasure higher and higher, until it flowed through my body to the tips of my fingers and toes.
Close to my ear, Silas' voice cut through everything. "Come with me, bright eyes," he said, his voice gravelly. "I want to feel you come on me."
I was already so close, but his words pushed me over the edge, and from somewhere outside myself, I heard my voice crying out his name over and over as I came, the explosion of pleasure so intense I thought I would lose my breath. Silas thrust inside me once, twice, three times, each time deeper than the last, and then crashed against me, flooding me with his seed.
Afterward, he clung to my breasts, his face nuzzled against the side of my neck, murmuring my name. We stood there like that for what seemed like forever, my heart thumping wildly. Silas' chest was pressed up against my back, rising and falling quickly as he regained his breath. After a while, he smoothed away strands of hair on the back of my neck and kissed me, the gesture sending a ripple of pleasure through my body that was almost too much to bear.
"Tempest," he said, his voice soft.
"Yeah." There was nothing else to say.
It was awkward as we padded around the bathroom, cleaning ourselves up, no longer distracted by the haze of desire. It shouldn't be awkward, I thought, feeling strangely disappointed. Had I thought things were going to magically fall into place, just because we'd had sex?
Walking past me in the bedroom, Silas smacked my ass, the gesture jolting me out of my thoughts. He grabbed my arm and pulled me against him, his lips brushing mine lightly, not kissing me. Regina Spektor played Samson on the stereo, and I began to hum the song, as Silas nuzzled his face against mine and swayed softly to the music. He didn't say anything, and I let him hold me as we danced naked in the hotel room.
Dancing with him felt sad. I should feel happy, I thought.
But being with him didn't feel like hello.
It felt like goodbye.
Lying in bed, I ran my hands through Tempest's hair, my thoughts all over the place. I didn't know what the fuck to think about what was happening between us. She was a ghost from my past I never thought I'd see again. And now, not only seeing her again, but touching her, fucking her...lying here, holding her.
My brain couldn't begin to process that shit.
I didn't know what the hell to say to her. There was so much that had gone between us.
She stirred beside me. "How have you been, Silas?"
I exhaled heavily. It was the kind of question you get asked at a high school reunion and answer with some bullshit about all the things you're doing, brag about your promotion and your leggy blonde wife and three gorgeous kids.
I didn't have an impressive response.
How did I explain what she'd done to me when she left?
"I'm good," I said.
"Good," she said. "That's good."
I was silent.
"I wasn't good," she said. "For a while. Things weren't good."
No, I thought. They were shit when you left.
"Your parents?" I asked. "Are they around?"
She laughed, the sound bitter. "Somewhere."
"You don't know?"
Tempest shrugged. "We had a falling out, after we ran from West Bend," she said. "They needed to lay low. I wanted to stay somewhere, finish senior year. I didn't want to grift anymore. I threatened to turn them in to the cops and they kicked me out."
"Jesus, Tempest," I said, my hand paused.
She took my palm, turned her face into it. "I know," she said. "I shouldn't have done something like that."
"Something like what?"
"Threatened to turn them in," she said. "It was the ultimate betrayal."
I slid up to a sitting position, pulled her up against me on the pile of pillows stacked at the head of the bed. "They were the ones dragging you all over the country and raising you like a criminal," I said. "You were seventeen. They were the ones who kicked you out."
I couldn't fucking understand the way her parents used her. How the hell was she supposed to do grow up to be anything except a criminal, if they'd raised her that way?