Page 60 of Wrap Around
My face flushes, hopefully not too noticeably. Everyone's pretty close together, talking into each other's ears. But if I'm not careful, my reactions are going to make my inner thoughts a little too obvious. I don't actually answer Gideon, but the harsh breath I take must be answer enough.
He presses in closer. "Meet me upstairs in five minutes." He slips into the crowd, and I count the time with my rapid heartbeat. I wait six and a half minutes just in case, both for safety and to have enough time to calm down.
I'm trying so hard to not act suspicious that I'm probably drawing attention to myself. I make my way down the dark hallway I saw Gideon disappear into. A random chair has been pulled into the middle of the hallway to block it off. There's a handwritten sign on it that directs the reader to where two downstairs bathrooms can be found. It doesn't specifically say not to go upstairs, but the intent is clear. I hesitate for a few long moments, until I hear a creak at the top of the stairs. With one more glance behind me to make sure no one followed me, I skirt around the chair and tiptoe up the creaky stairs.
It's almost pitch-black upstairs, but there's only one direction to walk in. To my right is a small loft and a closed door. To the left is a small hallway, a dim beam of light peeking under a door like a beacon. I walk towards the door and lift my hand to knock, but there's no answer. Wrapping my hand around the door knob, I crack it open.
"Gideon?" I whisper, poking my head into what looks to be a laundry room. There's a small nightlight plugged into the wall, and a grey cat with a flat face scowls up from what looks like a round pillow. It meows at me. The sound is less irritated than its face looks.
"Uh, sorry. Looking for someone else," I whisper.
A low chuckle from behind me makes me startle as I'm backing away. I end up shutting the door a little too loudly.
"Shit!" I exclaim, but the word gets muffled into a large hand as I'm pulled into Gideon's chest. His laughter vibrates through his chest at my back.
I let him walk me backwards, into another small room, this time a bathroom. He closes the door. "Light," he warns me in a low murmur before he flips a switch. I still have to blink several times to adjust to the light, but I turn around to squint at Gideon.
"You asshole," I whisper-yell, smacking his chest lightly. My own laughter bubbles up.
"I couldn't resist," he says. "And I wanted to make sure it was you. I was going to step out sooner, but I heard you talking to the cat and kind of lost my shit for a second there," he laughs.
"I don't think we're supposed to be up here." Even as I say the words, I move in closer to him. Even after all the kissing and touching in the showers, and the stolen kisses in between the game and arriving here, I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it. Every time his lips touch mine, I'm positive this has to be a dream. It can't possibly be real.
For the first time since the walls between us fell, I initiate the kiss. I move in slowly. Part of me still expects him to push me away, to hit me, to run. Maybe he can read my thoughts, because he stays still as I move into his space. His eyes are soft and almost sad, probably noticing my wariness.
The moment our lips touch, all of that falls away. He kisses me back with intent, soft pulls of my lips between his. By the time he's sweeping his tongue into my mouth, I'm breathless. I moan and let him crowd me against the door. The snick of the lock getsmy attention, his hand reaching around me to make sure no one walks in on us.
"I know we need to talk about… all of this," he says, trailing his lips up the side of my neck and jaw. "But I need your help, because I feel out of control. All I've ever wanted is to have you, and now that I do, it feels like we're making up for all the time we could have had."
"I'm not complaining," I say, remembering what he'd said downstairs.Was he serious? Is he really going to…
He pulls back enough to look into my eyes, his green irises dark and serious. "I'm never going to hurt you again. I can't believe I–"
I shut him up with my lips, aggressively trying to pull him back into my orbit. He groans helplessly, and I almost feel bad. He's right that we need to talk about this, but I'm suddenly getting everything I dreamed of and I'm too afraid it's going to disappear to stop whatever forward trajectory we're on. I'm definitely not the one to help us pump the brakes, because I don't want to. I want it all, all at once, all I can get.
Pulling him closer to me, I wrap my arms around the back of his neck to force our bodies flush against each other. I want to feel his warmth, the security of his tight hold, and his hardness pressed against mine. My hips buck into his, searching for the source of the mind-blowing pleasure he brought me to earlier this morning. No one else has ever touched me like that. I didn't know it could feel so good. I think I expected that an orgasm is an orgasm, and I've given myself plenty of those over the years. But that didn't feel anything like what my hand can do. I understand the meaning of seeing stars now.
I want more of that.
When Gideon's hand teases the waist of my jeans, I'm more than ready to strip us both naked and submit to whatever he wantsfrom me. I was willing to give it all up when he hated me and wanted to hurt me, it should be no surprise that I'm more than willing now that he's showing me the meaning of life through his lips and hands.
His fingers dip behind the button of my jeans, and I lean back to watch him unbutton my fly. He gets my pants open, but stops, breathing hard and gripping my waist beneath my shirt. I try to reach for his pants, but he grabs my hands in his and holds them above my head. I let him, becauseholy hell that's sexy. The look in his eyes when he opens them levels me and has the front of my underwear growing wet.
"Silas, has anyone ever–"
"No," I whisper. I don't need to hear the rest of that question. His brow furrows, and he looks confused, so I clarify. My cheeks burn as I spell it out for him. "It's only ever been you, Gideon."
"No one else?"
I shake my head and swallow. "You're the only person I've ever kissed, or touched, or…" I trail off, face flaming, as I wait for it to sink in.
He releases my hands and presses his forehead to mine. He breathes out slowly, then sucks in another shaky breath.
"Silas—" he chokes out my name like it's hurting him.
Is he feeling guilty that he can't say the same? Because, while I admit that it hurts to think about, I definitely understand and never expected that he wouldn't have been with other people.
"I had a baby and a wife, two jobs and expectations," I say, reassuring him. "But I also had a very single-minded focus to find you and find a way to make things right. I knew something you didn't know. I never expected you to wait for me when you thought–"
