His lips were still pressed against mine, but they wandered down my neck, over my shoulder, against my collarbone, only to return. His hands roamed over my clothed body, trembling fingers smoothing over my stomach, my arms, my breasts, my hips. Every part of my body he touched completely ignited.
Then he ground his hips into mine and whatever I thought I knew about chemistry, about combustion, was thrown away. There simply wasn’t anything that existed before this. Before Hayes and his body touching mine, his body making mine feel so entirely electric.
I’d had an orgasm before, but the few times it had occurred I’d been alone. What was happening on that couch was more than I’d ever felt before. More frantic. More needy. More full. Every part of me was brimming with emotions and sensations I couldn’t process before a new wave hit me. With every grind of his hips, every pass of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, I was closer and closer to the edge of a cliff I knew would kill me to fall from. It was the biggest internal battle of my life. I wanted him to continue, feeling as though if he stopped touching me, stopped pressing all the hardness against me, I’d cease to exist. But I also knew if I didn’t stop him, I was going to come in a wildly unrestrained way I’d never experienced, and that was enough to make me stop him.
All it took was the palms of my hands against his chest with the slightest of pressure and he lifted off me, panting.
“I’m sorry,” I said immediately, realizing I was embarrassed that I’d let it get that far, that I’d brought him to that point then pushed him away.
“What?” His voice was full of confusion. “What are you apologizing for?” His face was far enough away from mine that I could see his eyebrows pulling together, watch his hair puff out every time he exhaled, still winded. I opened my mouth to provide an answer, but I couldn’t find the words. I was too embarrassed. “Hey,” he said, bringing one of his hands to my cheek. “If you tell me to stop, I’m going to stop. Every time. It doesn’t matter why, and it doesn’t matter when. You tell me to stop, you push me away, I’ll always respect that.”
His eyes were sparkling with sincerity, and I felt even dumber.
“I’m sorry” was the only thing I could say back, this time apologizing for not having an answer for why I was apologizing.
“Babe, stop it.”
If I hadn’t already been burning up, he’d have noticed the flush to my cheeks at the nickname.
“Tell me what’s going on in there,” he said, nodding toward my head, still hovering above me. I got the feeling he wasn’t planning on going anywhere, or letting the issue drop, before I answered him.
“Um,” I stammered, trying to find the least embarrassing way to explain my situation. “It’s just never felt… or I mean… never been that, uh, intense before,” I said, and cringed as soon as the words left my mouth.
“You’ve never had an orgasm before?” His question wasn’t to tease or patronize me; he asked the question with so much earnestness, it nearly made me cry.
“I think I have, just, uh, not with anyone else around.” He nodded at my response. “It was just overwhelming, and your mom’s upstairs, and I just….”
“You don’t have to give me a reason, Kenz. I’m glad you gave an explanation as to how you were feeling, I want to know those things about you, but you never have to explain why you want to slow down or stop.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. I appreciated his understanding, but the soft kiss only made me miss the hungry ones I’d put a stop to.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Can you stay for a while and just watch a movie with me?”
“Yeah.”
He pressed another small kiss to my lips, then rolled to the side, squishing himself between me and the back of the couch, his front to my back. He reached for the remote, switched on the TV, then draped his arm over my waist. I relaxed into him, not caring what he picked to watch, just content to be cocooned by his warmth and let my body come down from the new high I’d found with him.
Chapter Twelve
Hayes
I startled awake to the sound of my phone alarm, but I was instantly aware that I wasn’t in my bed. I was also instantly aware of McKenzie’s body against mine, the slow rise and fall of her shoulders with her breath, the soft sounds of sleep coming from her. I moved slowly, reaching over her to grab my phone from the table, and couldn’t keep the smile from my face.
I’d spent an entire night holding McKenzie Harris. Only in my wildest and most sadistic dreams had I allowed myself the privilege of thinking about what I never imagined was possible. And then I was gifted with the pleasure of something so breathtaking—watching McKenzie Harris slowly wake. She stretched, a low moan escaping her as her arms stretched awake. Her eyes fluttered, slowly opening, and after a short moment, they met mine.
I was propped up on an elbow, looking down on her in all her messy-haired-but-impossibly-beautiful glory.
Fucking gorgeous.
“Morning,” I said, lifting my hand to her shoulder and running it down her arm.
“Morning,” she responded, obviously confused.
“We fell asleep.”