Page 43 of Reclaim

“I didn’t even tell you she was coming.”

“I eavesdropped.”

“What are you, twelve? Fucking weirdo,” I mutter to myself. “Where will you go?”

“To see Melissa, Stacey’s friend.”

“Oh, that’s a thing?” Curiosity flares about Drix’s life away from here.

“It’s enough of a thing to keep me busy while you’re busy.” Standing in the doorway, he looks back at me, “and I told you she wouldn’t care.”

Sticking up my finger, I smirk at him, “I know. You’re always right.”

“As long as you know, big brother. As long as you know.”

The knock on the door doesn’t surprise me since I’ve been sitting on the couch staring at the piece of wood for a solid hour. Riddled with anxiety, I exhale loudly and tell myself to man the fuck up and enjoy whatever is in store for the night.

Opening up, I’m taken aback by how stunning she looks in my doorway. At ease, she stands in front of me with an uninhibited smile. Provocative and motivated, this girl will bring me to my knees.

She’s wearing blue skinny leg jeans with rips along the thighs and a black t-shirt that has the wordsDon’t You Forget About Mewritten over a silhouette of Bender. Like forgetting her was ever a possibility. Her hair blows all around her face, making her look recklessly beautiful.

Moving forward, I reach out and tame her strands of her hair with my hands. Her eyes flutter until there’s nothing obscuring her vision.

“There you are,” I say softly.

“Here, I am.”

Seconds feel like hours, and the decision to devour her or deny myself is impossible to make. Pools of olive green watch me, tracing every inch of my face. Want swirls around, inviting me in for the taking.

I take it. With my hands wrapped around her neck, I meld our mouths together and let her frantic pulse fuel me. Beating in sync with the thumping in my chest, I kiss her the way I should’ve kissed her the first time. Our tongues caress one another, obliterating the worry, the trepidation, and more importantly, the memory of every goodbye we’ve shared.

She moans in my mouth, and I walk us back into the house. Like magnets refusing to break, our lips refuse to part. Kicking the door with my foot, I push her up against it. I hear a thump, beside my feet, Emerson dropping a bag I didn’t even realise she was holding. Her hands creep up underneath my shirt, gripping either side of my waist, and I shiver from her touch. I press myself into her, my dick hard and determined. Now that we’ve started, I can’t stop. My body and mind are split in two. Desperate to savour, but begging to burn.

Breaking apart, I close my eyes and lower my head. “If I look at you right now, with your crimson cheeks and needy eyes, I won’t be able to stop.”

Cupping my face she raises my head. “What if I don’t want you to stop?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman, Em.” My breathing gets heavier at the exact sight I predicted. “I can’t wine and dine you the way I want. So, let me do this right.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes and lets her head fall back against the door. “Show me what you got Michaels. Be a gentleman.”

* * *

“What are these?”Emerson asks, her fingertips skimming the edges of the pictures that decorate the fridge.

“Photos?” I question, not sure if she’s serious.

She slaps the back of her hand to my chest, “Thanks genius, I mean why do you have so many, and who took them?”

“Oh. Dakota takes them. She’ll be having a conversation with you, or waiting for the bus to take her to school, and if the moment’s right...” I say the last two words said the exact way Dakota always throws them at me.

“She’s really good. Like professional good.”

I scan the photos with pride, never getting sick of what magic Dakota’s eyes can see.

“What does she take them with?” Emerson asks.

“Her phone is her everyday camera, but if she plans something elaborate, she borrows the professional cameras from her school.”

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