Page 85 of Over the Edge

He pulls away and one of my thoughts breaks loose. “What happens next?”

“Tonight. Give me tonight.” He rakes me across the gravel of his voice. His fingers creeping up my ribs persuade me.

Tonight. I can give us tonight.“Have tonight. Have me.”

I’m not wearing a bra so when he reaches higher, he palms my bare breast, his thumb brushing over a peaked nipple. My teeth catch at his bottom lip and I rock into him. His erection presses against my stomach. I steal a groan from him as my hand meets the taut fabric of his pants.

The knowledge that I did this to him stokes my own need to see more of him. My fingers tug at his shirt. He moves back from me to aid in the process of discarding it, but the moment it’s off, I’m back to touching him.

The occasional flash of lightning allows me to see him more clearly, how his stomach muscles ripple as my hand drags across them.

“Fuck. How is this so much better?” he groans.

“Better than what?”

“You touching me without anyone looking,” he gasps. “When you’re not thinking about anyone else.”

The thing is, whenever he touches me it’s like the parts of my brain thinking about anything else shut off. Like I’m physically incapable of not thinking about him. Instead of saying any of this out loud, I press my hand to his chest and guide him to lay on thebed. I sling a leg over his hips so I’m straddling him. My lips find his, and I grind against him trying to use the friction between us to ease the ache between my legs.

Snaking my fingers through his hair, I revel in knowing that I’m allowed to mess him up. He messes me up as well, makes me a fucking disaster in all the best ways, so we might as well match.

“Eve,” Garrett says. His hands land on my hips stopping my desperate movements. “Is this all you want?”

“Are you offering more?”

“Yes, but I won’t be able to last much longer if you keep up with what you’re doing. At this rate, I’m going to come in my pants.”

“I don’t have any condoms. Did you pack any?”

“No, that wasn’t exactly on my list of essentials,” he says. “I’m clean, I’ve had a vasectomy. But if you’re not comfortable without one we don’t have to.”

“You do?”

“I got it when I was eighteen.”

“Very responsible,” I say. “And I got tested two months ago, and haven’t been with anyone since.”

“Then, Evelyn, can I please?” Garrett asks as he hooks a finger under the waistband of my shorts.

“Are you going to be gentle with me?” I gasp.

“You’re the only person I know how to be gentle with,” he murmurs into my skin, causing my stomach to flutter.

I don’t want to admit that even before it’s started, I don’t want it to end. That I’m breaking the feeble promises I made to myself. I’m about to fall so far there is no coming back.

But I think it might just be worth it. We might be worth it.

He stares at me for a moment then kisses my cheek. His lips trail a meandering constellation, stars rising to prickle under the surface of my skin.

Cheek. Nose. Cheek. Corner of my lips. Neck. Lips.

Lips. His firm lips against mine. Asking. Wanting.

He pulls back and touches his forefinger against my lower lip. I pull the finger into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. The action draws a groan from him.

“And what if I don’t want you to be gentle?”

“Whatever you want,” he says as he lifts the hem of my shirt. His stare tracks each inch of exposed skin. “But you better be quiet or your friends in the other room will know exactly how obedient I can be.”

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