I feel a shudder roll through his body and he lets out a tortured groan, which is a good sign. But his hand stills completely. In fact, his entire body seems to lock up.
The sensations raging through my body are abruptly cut off as Raph steps away from me. I try not to jump to conclusions, but I can’t help but feel stung.
Raph is a picture of conflict. His jaw is working and his eyes darken with some emotion that’s almost frightening in its intensity.
“Don’t—don’t you want to?” I ask, although I kick myself for sounding so pathetic, for being so pathetic. God, here I am just another foolish girl offering herself up on a plate to Raphael St. Tristan. In an empty classroom no less—real classy. Except he doesn’t seem to be into it. Not at all.
Heat flashes in his eyes and as quick as lightning, he takes my face in his hands. His lips meet mine, but this time the kiss is achingly tender, like that reverent kiss he gave me that night after coming back from Rockford Cape.
The kiss makes me feel like he’s reaching right inside my chest and squeezing the beating muscle inside. It’s that powerful. Every doubt, every question is swept from my mind. At least just for that moment. Because this isn’t just any kiss. You wouldn’t kiss someone like this who you were just screwing with—kissing with lust, desire, hunger? Yes. But not like this. This kiss means something and I feel that meaning wrap itself around my heart.
When he pulls away, his eyes are as dark as midnight, as he touches his forehead to mine.
“God, you have no idea how much I want to be inside you,” he says, and his words send a delicious thrill along my skin.
“I want to be inside you so bad, that I can’t even think straight half the time, and when we’re lying in that bed of yours, my body on yours … it takes everything I have, every last bit of self-control to stop myself from burying myself deep inside you.”
I gasp at the intensity of the words, because although I did sense the effort he had to exert at controlling himself all those times, hearing him say it out loud is entirely different.
He sees the question in my eyes and saves me from having to ask it.
“But I want to wait until you’re ready. Really ready.”
His answer floors me and I feel like I can’t breathe for a second.
“Trust me, my dick hates me for it, but I …”
He trails off and I suddenly get that feeling again that I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff, but this time, I feel like he’s there next to me.
He doesn’t finish the sentence, though. What he says instead is enough. At least for now.
“It’s never been like this for me, Jaz. You think I’ve done this a thousand times before, but I haven’t—not like this. I don’t want to mess this up. I’m so goddamn terrified of messing this up.”
He looks uncertain, shy almost, in a way that’s so at odds with his usual air of confidence. That uncertainty does something to me and I reach out for him then, kissing him with more emotion than is safe for me, letting him inside me in another way, which I know is far, far more dangerous.
30
I manage to get through the rest of the final week of the semester without insecurity rearing its ugly head again. But of course, it had to wait until the last day of semester to appear.
“Hey, Jazmine, how’s it going?”
I turn from my locker to see Devon stop in front of me as he passes by.
Other than seeing him in calculus, I haven’t really spoken to him since that night of the Fall Ball. He hasn’t brought up going out again in any of those brief conversations in class, and he hasn’t tried to text or call. I’m certain it has everything to do with Raph’s less than subtle exhibitions of the claim that he’s staked on me and of course, god only knows what kind of warnings Raph’s been doling out to his team in the locker rooms. Because every time a member of the soccer team passes me, they fix their eyes directly on the floor, as if they’re scared out of their minds that they’ll turn to stone if they so much as look at me the wrong way or just scared out of their minds of Raph more likely.
“Hi, I’m good, you?” I reply politely.
Devon fidgets for a moment and suddenly I feel awkward. Because part of me does feel bad about agreeing to go with him to that party after the Gramercie game and to the Fall Ball, when my mind was on Raph. But I was in denial back then and Raph had made it clear he didn’t want me. In hindsight, I should’ve known that it couldn’t have turned out any other way between Raph and me. That from that first moment on the beach, we were headed on a collision course right into each other’s arms. As wrong as that might be.
“I’m okay,” Devon replies, and the awkwardness dissipates as we talk about class and the holidays. I’d forgotten how easy going and nice Devon is. Although I didn’t really get a chance to get to know him that well, it must’ve been part of the reason why I, for a moment, thought that I might want to.
“Anyway, I should get going. But it was nice talking to you. It got kind of awkward back then after the Fall Ball, but you’re a great girl, Jazmine, I hope we can be friends,” he says finally.
“Sure,” I reply casually. “I’m glad we got a chance to catch up, too,” I add honestly. “I wanted to speak to you after the Fall Ball to explain things, but I thought you’d be mad at me, you know because of what happened afterwards with Raph …” I trail off and kick myself for mentioning it.
Devon’s expression falters for a second, but he flashes another easy smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I knew what I was getting myself into. I kind of suspected there was more to it between you guys, even if nothing was going on at the time. I mean Raph wouldn’t just go around warning every guy in school off a girl unless he’s wanting to stake his claim.”
I feel a surprising warmth at those words, because it reminds me that whatever it is that Raph feels for me, it goes further back than I had let myself acknowledge.
Devon seems to be deciding on whether to say something, and I eye him curiously.
“Take care of yourself, Jazmine. Like I said, you’re a nice girl—too good to be Raph’s latest slam piece.”
There’s no malice in his words, just genuine, friendly concern. But the words are crude all the same, and I feel sick at the thought.