Yeah, but how long will it last?
Anxiety clawed at my chest at that train of thought. We had started our relationship on a joke, constantly trying to one-up and out-prank each other, but somewhere along the way, things had changed. Sure, I was highly skilled at avoiding anything related to commitment or giving someone else any form of control over me, but I also wasn’t blind to what was happening with us. Somewhere along the way we had hopped on this path of something that resembled an actual relationship.
And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want this, whatever it was, to end.
I didn’t know where I wanted it to go, but I knew to the root of my soul, I didn’t want it to be over. I was never one who looked toward the future, but with Thatch, I was having a hard time not looking toward the future.
I couldn’t imagine my day-to-day life without him in it.
“What are you thinking about, honey?” he asked, voice soft. His hand caressed my cheek as his eyes stared into mine.
I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t want to lose you.
I leaned into his touch. “No matter what happens between us, we’ll always be close, right?”
His brows raised in confusion. “Close?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “Me and you, we’ll always be…” I stopped midsentence when I couldn’t find the strength to say all of the things I really wanted to say. My heart and brain were at war, one wanting to profess something far stronger than like, while the other froze up in fear of the unknown.
I had never been the type of woman who stayed with one thing for more than a short amount of time. So how could I ask him for any kind of long-term commitment or declaration of his feelings for me if I wasn’t certain my current feelings for him would never change?
But they won’t change. He’s your person, you fucking commitment-phobic moron.
Thatch didn’t pry or press for an explanation. For several quiet moments, his gaze didn’t leave mine. His eyes searched for my unsaid words, and when he found whatever he was looking for, he changed positions—his body hovering over mine and his hands resting beside my head.
“Don’t worry, honey,” he said, his lips mere inches from mine. “We’re on the same page.”
“But how do you know?” I asked. “What if we’re not even reading the same fucking book?”
“Because I know.” His mouth quirked up at the corners as a confident smile took over his lips. “We’re on the same word, in the same paragraph, on the same page, in the same fantastic fucking book.”
“But how do you know?”
“Because it’s our book, Cassie. Yours and mine. This is our story, and I’ll be damned if I let it end badly.”
I know what you’re thinking.
Avoiding party of two?
Our table is ready.
But should you expect anything less confusing from us? This is Thatch and me we’re talking about here. We could have a reality show called Defying Normal.
But at least we are on the same show.
He chuckled softly as his eyes softened to caramel. Nose to nose, all I could see was Thatch’s face highlighted by the soft morning sun. His eyes were gleaming and dark as they studied me. His gaze moved to my lips and stayed there for a beat as he just took me in. His mouth was close. So close that our breaths mingled. And God, I loved his mouth. His full, soft lips. I loved the taste and lush feel of those perfect lips.
Heat pooled in my belly until it consumed my entire body. I was desperate for him, for everything he could give me. I reached up and traced his jaw with my fingers.
“Same fucking page,” he repeated, but he didn’t wait for my response.
He crushed his lips to mine and kissed me like a man starved for my taste, my breaths, my heart. Around and straight down the center, his tongue worked mine until I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began. The fabric of my pajama shorts bunched easily in the grip of his hands as he pulled them away from my hips and down until his palms met the bare skin of my ass.
“You feel so goddamn good,” he breathed into the tiny sliver of space between my lips. I sucked it in and let it overwhelm me, my head falling back until his lips had nowhere to go but my throat.
His tongue traced the line of my pulsing vein, and my chest heaved. Fuck. This would make some fantastic vampire porn.
Easing his weight off of me, he forced my shorts down the rest of the way and licked his top lip before biting the bottom with a groan. “No panties, baby?” One thick finger filled me in a stroke, but it didn’t stay long. He pulled it back and sucked it clean. “You have the sweetest pussy. All that attitude must turn right to sugar.”
I rolled my eyes until he stood up and shoved his boxer briefs straight to the ground.
A lot of fucking inches, hard, purple, and angry, brought my gaze right back.
“Tits out,” he ordered with a wink. “They just put in a direct request.”