Page 87 of Tiny Fractures

“I’ve never…”

I pull my head up, looking into her huge, glossy eyes. She looks at me, shyness and embarrassment causing small creases to form on her brow, and realization spreads through me. She’s not ready for me to take this any further tonight.

“It’s okay,” I breathe, my heart still hammering against my ribs. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want.”

I feel her relax underneath me, but I slide my hand back up her thigh and across the side of her body, just to feel her shiver against me one more time before I roll off her. I position myself to face her, adjusting my hard-on in the process. I can’t even begin to describe how angry my dick is, how pent-up I am right now—the need to get relief, to reach climax almost overwhelming—but Cat is more than worth it.

“You are so different,” she muses without looking at me. It makes me think that there have been some guys who were obvious about wanting only the one thing, and it makes me want to go hunt them down and teach them a lesson. “I’ve never done anything,” she says, apparently in a confessional spirit.

I look at her intently, not sure what exactly she’s getting at. Never done anything? “What do you mean?”

Cat sits up, adjusting her tank top to cover her exposed stomach. I can’t help but pout a little bit. She notices, and her giggle rings like silver bells, making a smile appear on my face. “I mean I haven’t done anything but kiss a guy.”

“Okay, so no sex. Nothing wrong with that,” I say, completely honest, sitting up.

“No, no sex,” she says, looking down now. “And no oral sex, or anything like that.”

I don’t understand why she looks so embarrassed. Whether she has or hasn’t had sex is of no concern to me. It’s her body, and she should get to choose whether to be intimate with someone without judgment.

I put my hands on her cheeks, pulling her closer toward me, looking directly into her gorgeous hazel eyes that have taken on more of a green hue right now. “I can wait for you. No matter how long it takes. And even if you decide you never want to, or never want to with me…”—my heart stings at this last thought, but I shake it off for her sake—“then I’ll be okay with that.”

I mean every fucking word, no matter how painful it would be if I could never feel all of her.

Cat

Only six months ago, me shutting down the boy I was making out with would have ended in me getting hurt. Adam would have been angry, he would have screamed at me, called me names. But not Ronan. He stopped the second I expressed hesitation, and he didn’t make me feel guilty, didn’t accuse me of leading him on or being a tease. Instead, he told me that I set the pace at which we move, and I cannot even begin to express how safe I feel with him.

We lie facing each other, his fingers drawing patterns on my shoulder and arm, and he places soft kisses on my forehead.

“What are these?” I ask, lightly touching the thin gold necklace around Ronan’s neck that holds two small gold pendants.

He stops kissing me and pulls back slightly, his hand reaching for the necklace. “This one”—he taps on the oval pendant that appears to have an angel with a large sword on it—“is Saint Michael. And this one”—he traces the other pendant, a woven-looking cross—“is Saint Brigid’s cross. She was an Irish saint. Both of these are supposed to protect against evil. My grandmother gave them to me when I turned fourteen.”

“She really wanted to make sure you’re protected, huh?” I say somewhat jokingly, and Ronan nods.

“I guess so,” he says, his voice soft. “She always worries about me,” he adds, and kisses my forehead again.

“Why?” I ask, my eyes falling shut under the tenderness of his touch.

He doesn’t respond, and instead dips his head down and kisses my lips. I let him distract me like that, and we end up tasting each other for what seems like hours. My hands forge paths across his still-bare torso while his fingers glide under my tank top again, softly touching my feverish skin. His caress of my breasts, my pebbled nipples, is sensual and unspeakably arousing. I feel the want growing deep within me, warm moisture pooling between my thighs, though Ronan refrains from venturing farther down again.

We drive each other to the near brink before we finally stop, breathless and exhausted. I end up falling asleep in Ronan’s arms, my head resting on his bare chest while his steady breathing and beating heart quickly pull me under.

Saturday, July 3rd

Cat

When I wake up, Ronan is still next to me, his front to mine, his arm resting on my waist while my arms are tucked against his chest. I can feel the warmth of his body, and his slow breathing is peaceful and content. His features are relaxed, his eyelids shut, and I don’t move out of fear of waking him. But the scent of him arouses my senses, and I can’t help but wiggle against him a little, spreading my fingers over his chest and drawing small patterns on his warm smooth skin.

A low growl alerts me that Ronan is awake, and I giggle as he pulls me into him tighter.

“This might be my new favorite way of waking up,” Ronan whispers into my ear.

I angle up my head to look into his face. His hair is sexy as hell messy like that, and his green eyes are brighter than usual. “Good morning,” I whisper back.

He kisses my forehead and I feel his rib cage expand with a deep breath in.

“Did you… did you just smell me?” I ask.

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