Page 411 of The First Time

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I still can't say this with words. They've never been my strong suit.

But this—my body against his—I can say it like this.

I love you.

Be mine.

Be mine forever. For real. For everything.

I tug at his t-shirt. I slide my tongue into his mouth.

It isn't enough.

I need more.

I need everything.

Blake shifts off his stool. He presses his body against mine.

Everything in me relaxes.

This is exactly where we're supposed to be. Domestic bliss and sex and love and everything. In his kitchen. In the apartment that can be ours. In a life that can be ours.

He slides his hands under my ass and lifts me onto the kitchen island.

I wrap my legs around him.

He pulls my tank top off my head.

No teasing today. He brings his hands to my breasts and rubs my nipples with his thumbs.

He's giving me what I need.

I kiss him harder.

Arch my back to rub my crotch against his.

I comb my fingers through his hair, holding his head against mine, lettingeverythingpour from me to him.

When he breaks our kiss, I'm shaking.

I pull his t-shirt over his head. "Now. Please."

He nods as he tugs at my pajama bottoms.

I place my hands behind my back, lifting my hips so he can get them off my ass.

They fell to my knees. My ankles.

I kick them off my feet.

He steps out of his bottoms.

We're naked in the kitchen.

But I don't feel exposed.

I feel seen. Like somehow I'm getting both versions of Blake.

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