Page 49 of Back to Me

Raking my fingers through my hair, I stare at the vacant black screen of my phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wish things were different.”

“I know you do.” Placing two fingertips against the stubble of my chin, Sara urges me to face her.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you were already having a rough day, and I made it worse with my bullshit family drama as always.”

Shaking her head, she disagrees. “You have nothing to apologize for. And besides, your bullshit is my bullshit.”

“But really, I’m sorry for how today went and for what Allison did to you. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you.” The sweet sound of her voice reverberates through her throat and against her purple painted full lips.

Erasing the conversation with my sister and the lingering frustration with my father, I focus all my attention on Sara and all the things I could be doing to her instead of sitting idly at a picnic table in a park. Leaning over, I brush aside her hair with my fingertips and whisper in her ear.

“Have I ever told you how spectacular you are?”

Her warm cheek presses against the side of my face as she leans in. I can tell how much my voice is affecting her. Squeezing her thighs together, she practically melts her body against mine.

“No.”

“You own me,” I say, lowering my voice.

Goosebumps form along her smooth, tan skin. Desire for her building beneath the tight fabric of my faded, ripped jeans, I grit out, “If I could, I would take you right here on this picnic table, not caring how many people were around to witness.”

Her hot breath dances across my cheek, and I can hear her heart beating against the walls of her chest. The only response I get is the sound of her rapid breathing and her thighs tensing with every passing second.

“But since society frowns upon such displays,” I add, lowering my voice, “I guess we’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

Quickly pulling away from her, I lean back and tear off a piece of Sara’s half-eaten salted pretzel, still wrapped inside its parchment. With a devilish grin, I shove the salty dough into my mouth and relish her reaction. Her cheeks flush a pale pink, and the golden specks in her emerald green eyes shine against the afternoon sun. Staring at her beauty, my jeans stretch even more against the growing tension in my lower body, and I curse myself for teasing her. Images of her lying underneath me, her flesh pressed against mine play through my mind, making it hard to swallow the piece of pretzel I’ve stolen.

“Fuck it,” I groan. Standing up, I wrap my hand around Sara’s and begin walking us out of the park.

“Where are we going?” she asks. Following behind me, she tries to keep up, laughing along the way.

“To my car. Apparently, I don’t have the ability to tease you and not follow through.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she says, laughing.

Even though she can’t see my face, I grin and say, “You were ridiculous first.”

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