Page 97 of Catch the Sun

“Don’t be. You can always climb through my window.”

A sad smile crests as a quiet beat passes. Then she whispers, “The bicycle was from you.”

Swallowing, I nod, holding her tighter. I was wondering when she’d bring that up. “Yes.”

“Why? We weren’t even friends then.”

“Weren’t we? I seem to recall you asking for my hand in friendship at theclearing the day of the bonfire.” Hesitating, I retract that. “No…we were friends long before that. I saw you in the schoolyard reading a book when I was seven years old. You smiled at me. And that was all it took.”

Her irises glitter in the soft glow of moonlight, lashes fluttering thoughtfully. “Thank you for the bike, Max.”

“You’re welcome.”

Ella props her chin on my shoulder and lifts her puffy eyes to me. “Do you really sleep naked?” Her gaze dips to the white sheet pulled up over my hips, then flicks back up.

“Boxers only.”

She swallows, glancing away. “I should probably go.”

I don’t want her to go. She smells like citrus and feels like sunshine. Her palm still rests atop my chest, grazing lightly over my ribs. Her breath warms the side of my neck. One of her legs is twined with mine beneath the covers and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

When her breathing placates and her hand stops moving, I tilt my head until my temple kisses the top of hers. “Stay,” I whisper.

But she’s already asleep.

***

It’s still dark and quiet when my eyelids peel open and I stir from a dreamless sleep. There’s an added weight draped over me. A drowsy smile tips my lips as I stretch, my limbs stiff but my heart an elastic band of contentment.

Ella rouses beside me, the arm across my chest sliding up until her hand is in my hair and her body is spooning my side. The repositioning has her leg lifting higher until it grazes against the steel rod in my boxers.Shit.Maybe I was dreaming, after all.

Must’ve been a good dream.

She freezes when she notices, because it’s impossible not to notice.

I hear her breath hitch, feel the shaky little gasp against my neck as she stills beside me. The moment is charged, heavy. I’m wide awake now, staring up atthe stretch of black ceiling. I don’t move. I’m afraid to touch her, considering I’m half-naked and rock-hard in my bed with the girl of my dreams fused against me.

She’s breathing heavily, husky and ragged. When she presses a tiny kiss to the skin below my ear, I nearly convulse. My fists clench tightly as one knee draws up beneath the covers. Swallowing hard, I inhale a flimsy breath and close my eyes, waiting to see what she does next.

She kisses me again, lingering longer. Then again. Tugging on my hair with her right hand, she lifts up higher to kiss the side of my jaw. She peppers kisses down the bristled edge and makes an achy little sighing sound.

And when her tongue pokes out, I lose it.

I turn my head, bury my fist in her hair, and crush my mouth to hers.

Ella melts into the kiss with a groan, her leg coiling around me in a needy clutch, her boy shorts riding up her legs. She whimpers, moans. She grinds herself into me as I groan right back, our parted mouths pressed together for a moment of stopped time. When her hand releases a fistful of my hair, she drags it down my torso and brushes it over my hardness. I almost die. I’d put money on the fact that my soul leaves my body for one weightless, divine second and levitates through the paneled ceiling.

“Ella,” I rasp, pulling back and squeezing my eyes shut as she strokes me through my boxers. I’m scared as shit that I’m going to come. No one’s ever touched me there before, save for my own hand. I turn on the pillow until we’re face-to-face, her wide, glassy eyes meeting with mine. Moonlight pours in from the open window, highlighting her flushed cheeks and static-mussed hair.

I glance down at her heaving chest cased in a peachy tank top. Pebbled nipples poke through the thin layer of fabric and the animal inside of me reacts. A growl rumbles in my throat as I reach for the hem of her top and start dragging it up her body. Ella gasps again, removing her hand to help me discard it. Seconds fly by as the shirt is tossed to the floor and her milky-white breasts are at eye level. Inching down the mattress, I palm both breasts with my hands and lurch forward, taking her nipple in my mouth.

“Max…oh my God…” she moans, arching her back, pressing into me as she latches onto my biceps.

I nip and suck, then move to the other breast. She is all soft skin and sun-kissed daydreams. Ropes of long hair cascade over her breasts, and when I’m out of breath I grab a handful and pull myself back up, inhaling deep and diving back at her mouth. Both of her arms wrap around my shoulders and yank me as close as I can get. Her leg curls around me until I’m pressed between her thighs and her chest is smashed to mine.

Her head falls back at the contact. “Max,” she moans. “Touch me.”

I don’t hesitate.

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