Page 95 of The Outsider

“You should take your shirt off,” she said.

She hadn’t meant to say that. It had just sort of fallen out.

“I thought I was in charge.”

“Yeah, like in a little,” she said. “But the first night that I was here... you walked out without your shirt on. And I think it just about killed me. I’ve never seen... I’ve never seen anything like that. You. Your body. I knew right then that I wanted you. And I’ve never wanted anybody like that before. The night that we both... When we both went out with other people... I told you that you were like a cardboard cutout, I was lying. I was completely obsessed with how youlook. I thought you were the most handsome man I had ever seen. And I have been dying to see you half-naked again.”

“You know I’m going to be more than half-naked, right?” he asked as he grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled it up over his head.

She stood there, staring. At all of that broad chest, the dark hair sprinkled there.

“I... Yeah. I am. I... Please. Be all-the-way naked.”

“Calm down,” he said, moving toward her. She reached her hand out and placed it flat on his chest, her fingertips tingling as they made contact with his hot skin.

“You said you wanted me to take the lead,” he said. “So trust me.”

He put his hand on the back of hers, pressing it flat to his skin, and she shivered. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Attagirl,” he said.

And that made everything inside of her go still. Pleased.

She liked that he was happy with her. She more than liked it. She felt brilliant. Effervescent with his approval.

He wrapped his arm around her, crushing her to his chest, stroking her hair as he leaned in and kissed her. Deep and long.

Slow. He wasn’t in a rush. And she wanted him to take it slow. She wanted him to let her enjoy every little bit of it.

Because long nights of being hungry seemed to pass in torturous increments.

Because when you were cold, time slowed to a crawl.

Up from the moment their mouths had met, she had felt like time had raced forward.

So she loved this. This moment to slow it all down. This moment to let it feel different.

To let it feel real. To let it feel right.

To be able to savor everything. The feel of his heart raging under her palm. The sound of their breathing.

The aching, tender way that his mouth claimed hers, before it got rough and hard and delicious.

She wanted this man. And it was a glorious feeling. To be able to want.

To have cravings. To know they could be satisfied. And she would never take that gift for granted. Other people would. Other people would never understand the glory and the joy in simply wanting like this. In the anticipation of satisfaction. Because it had always been a luxury she couldn’t afford.

She could afford this.

What an incredible realization. It was bigger than anything.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. “That’s what I want, Bix. I want to make you shake and tremble, and scream because it feels so damned good.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I would like that.”

She wasn’t going to let herself cry, because she knew well enough to know that would probably alarm him.

But it was incredible now, to be standing on the edge of all the good things the human body couldfeel. Instead of just living in the knowledge that it would be nothing but hunger and cold as far as her eye could see.

---