Page 63 of The Chemistry of Us

Nobody made me feel what he could. At eighteen years old, I was already aware no one else ever would.

I could sense he was hesitating, probably on my behalf, knowing this was the first time for me. I wanted to feel him in every possible manner. I had for months, but he never tried more than just kissing. He respected me, and coming from a guy like him, it meant everything.

Recognizing his uncertainty, I made it easy for him. Tugging his lips back to mine, I coaxed, “Touch me, Vaughan.”

“Where?” he said into my mouth.

“Anywhere you want.”

He smiled as he slipped his tongue past my parting lips. Working it in ways that had my legs spreading and wrapping around his waist. My arms quickly followed, doing the same around his neck.

No space or distance between us.

He kissed me gently, adoringly, fervently.

He pulled back a little, resting his forehead on mine to look deep into my eyes. I’d become familiar with that hunger in his stare. Although he wasn’t even touching me, I felt him all over.

I craved his touch.

His taste.

The feel of him on top of me and between my legs.

All his adoration.

His love.

Devotion.

Every laugh.

Smile.

Everything and anything.

I just wantedhim.

Reaching for the front of his shirt, I helped him pull it over his head to toss it on the floor next to my dress. My fingers pressed against the pulse of his neck, wanting to feel it beatingonly for me. I stayed there for a few seconds, slowly skimming them down to his heart and then his taut abs until I reached for his belt.

The warmth and softness of his skin made my sex clench and my stomach flutter. The butterflies he always stirred never got old. It was one of my favorite emotions he evoked.

The feelings he ignited inside me were what fairy tales were made of. I never thought I’d find a love like his.

Like ours.

I thanked my lucky stars he came into my life when he did, making me believe I was worth being cared for. I grew up on my own, constantly being called a burden or annoying—the list was endless.

When you’d heard it enough, you started to believe it. I spent years telling myself I wasn’t an accident or a mistake. I had a purpose.

“Hey…” Van stressed. “Where did you go?”

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head, covering my face. “I’m ruining this.”

He pulled my hands away. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Tru, don’t hide from me.”