Page 113 of Until Next Summer
And now I open my eyes.
“It’s terrifying,” he says, “because I could fall in love with you so easily.”
I freeze. “Don’t say that.”
“Okay, I won’t. But it’s true.”
Maybe it is—or maybe he’s sad because he lost his beloved dog and I’m in his bed and he could use a distraction. But couldn’t I use a distraction, too? I’m losing my beloved camp.
Like Luke said, everything ends—this moment will end. This summer will end, and we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again. So why not enjoy it while we can?
His hand strokes my thigh, and his eyes seem to darken as he looks at me, gauging my response. I hold his gaze and part my legs ever so slightly.
His fingertips move higher, until he’s toying with the hem of my underwear. Heat pools there, right there, and I nod.Yes.His eyebrow quirks as he runs his hand across the fabric, then lower, until his fingers brush a spot that lights me up. I bite my lip, but a tiny moan slips out nonetheless. His lips twitch, like he’s pleased with himself, and he continues circling, teasing, taking his time as the fabric goesfrom damp to wet to soaking. And then he moves my underwear aside.
At the first touch of his hand, my body tightens involuntarily, and he pauses.
“If you stop right now I will murder you,” I say.
He grins—half-delighted, half-devious—as he strokes me, slowly dipping his finger inside, then pulling back out, circling, then doing it all over again. I’m slick and swollen, already so turned on from the weeks of tension building between us. I know it’s not going to take much. Heat collects where he’s touching me, radiating through me, building to a frenzy until my body tightens and spasms and I cry out, my head rolling back and my eyes squeezing shut.
When I open my eyes again, he’s inches away, watching me. I’m shaky, a little dazed, but I manage a teasing smile. “What the hell, Luke? You gave me an orgasm, but you’ve never really kissed me.”
Without hesitation, he leans in and presses his lips to mine. I respond instantly, opening my mouth, our tongues meeting, warm and hungry. We’ve been waiting for this all summer—these aren’t soft, tentative kisses; they’re desperate and heated, quickly turning rough. When he pulls away to catch his breath, I bite his bottom lip, growling. In response, he grips my throat with his hand, not squeezing, just holding me in place as he kisses my mouth, my jaw, my neck, scraping his teeth against my skin.
His free hand toys with the bottom edge of my T-shirt, and I lift it a few inches, hoping he takes the hint. He does, running his hand up to cup my breast.
“You’re so soft,” he murmurs. “I want—I need—”
He lifts my shirt up so he can lean down and put hismouth on my nipple, sucking lightly at first, then harder, making me squirm. Rain drums on the roof, echoing through the cabin. His other hand stays on my throat, gently pinning me down as he sucks and toys with me until I’m writhing. When he pauses, I take the opportunity to tug his shirt up, and he releases me so I can pull it over his head and off.
The sky outside is lighter now, giving me a view that takes my breath away: his body looks like it was crafted by a master artist. Perfect proportions, perfect symmetry, all lean and toned; my hands ache to touch him.
“You’re so goddamn gorgeous, you could be on a salad dressing bottle,” I tell him.
His eyes spark with mischief. “And you’re so goddamn gorgeous, you could be a Barbie doll.”
“Fuck you,” I say, grinning.
“Yes, please.”
I laugh, then put my palms on his pecs, slide them up to his shoulders, down his arms, across his abs. He closes his eyes and lets me touch him as his breathing turns ragged, until he can’t handle it anymore and he grabs my wrists.
“Take off your shirt,” he orders, his voice rough.
I obey, and his gaze sweeps over me, fiery blue. He pulls me against him, and the warmth of his skin on mine makes me dizzy. We sink into another deep kiss as we move together, nothing but our underwear between us as we thrust against each other. It’s rough and dirty and so fucking hot I can feel another orgasm building.
“Why haven’t we been doing this all summer?” he says, and bites my neck—not too hard, but enough to make me startle.
As punishment, I sink my teeth into his shoulder, making him yelp.
“Because,” I say, “you were a dumb little dweeb.”
He laughs out loud—probably the first real laugh I’ve ever gotten from him. He kisses my neck, then sucks hard enough to bruise.
“Watch it,” I say. “You’re going to give me a hickey and everyone will know what we’ve been doing.”
“Oh, everyone will know. I am going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight.”
