Page 88 of Wrap Around
The pastor’s face goes red, his shoulders trembling. “If you repent.”
That’s all he can say.
“Come on,” I whisper.
I take Gideon’s hand and don’t let go as I lead him out of the church.
He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t resist. He lets me practically drag him across the gravel lot and through the grassy meadow towards the lake.
Behind a copse of trees, we reach the clearing where we used to come to breathe. The bank where we came to hide and find solace, to smile and feel free when life here got too heavy. The very spot where we first realized the impossible love we felt for each other.
The water glistens like glass, reflecting all the memories this place holds.
I turn to face Gideon and pull him into my arms. He doesn’t fight it. Just melts. We stay like that for the longest time, holding on to each other. It feels like the culmination of every struggle, every dream, every fantasy.
Cradling the back of his neck, I press my lips to his. It starts slow and sure and steady, growing into something fevered and hungry. He kisses me like he’s starving, and I’m just as ravenous.
We need to talk, I know we do. He knows it too. But right now, we just need each other. The reassurance that only touch can bring.
Falling into the same grassy bank we laid in the first time we kissed, clothes come off without a thought or worry. We’re surrounded by trees and reeds and tall grass, feeling for all the world like we’re in some deserted place where no one can get to us. We writhe and roll against each other, but it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough.
We’re desperate for deep contact, to be as close as two people can be. Weneedthis– the connection, the reassurance that we’re together, no matter what.
Limbs, hands, fingers, mouths, they all move in perfect choreography. There are still lube packets in my wallet, even though we haven’t been together in weeks. Taking them out would have felt too final.
The breath leaves my body in a long moan when I finally sink down his length, both regretting the bare minimum we put into opening me up and loving the burn of feeling him inside me again. Gideon throws his head back in a gasp, abs flexing as his hips move up to meet my movements. I watch him, getting little flashes of memory from the first time I had him beneath me. Blanketing my body over his, my hands run up the back of his arms, clasping our hands together over his head. My mouth presses to his as I roll my hips in a slow, sensuous movement. Between us, my cock leaks onto his stomach with every stroke of my prostate, and I feel myself growing closer to an edge I both crave and want to hold off.
If only we could pause here, in this moment, and just live in it for a while. To bask in the glow of our love, even knowing all the challenges and fears and worries ahead of us.
I fall over the edge first, splashing his torso in streams of pent-up energy and anxiety from the past few weeks. The climax rolls through me, from tip to toe, releasing every bit of tension. I throw my head back, choking on gasps and the tears that fall from myeyes, and look up at the blue, cloudless sky as Gideon digs his fingers into my hips, helping me ride out the rest of my orgasm.
In one fluid movement, he brings me down so we’re chest to chest and kisses me while flipping us over, so my back is on the ground and he’s moving between my legs. I wrap my legs around him and hold him tight against my body. He rocks inside me, kissing and licking the tears from my cheeks and temples.
“I love you,” he rasps, forehead pressed to mine as he grinds against me like he’s trying to get deeper inside me. “I love you,” he repeats, then cries it out again as he comes.
More tears fall from the corners of my eyes as Gideon thrusts into me, filling me, shaking with the force of his release and the love between us. We kiss as we both come down, and when Gideon finally slips from my body, he rolls so we're side by side, looking into each other’s eyes.
CHAPTER 32
GIDEON
The grass is warm beneath my back, soft and reminiscent of all the days we spent out here as kids and teenagers. My shirt is somewhere behind me, crumpled and half-damp from sweat and lake spray. The sun is hot, hanging overhead like it’s refusing to set. Like it’s trying to give us a few more minutes to enjoy our moment of silence.
Silas is beside me, one arm draped across his stomach, the other close enough that our pinkies touch.
We don’t say anything for a long while. Not because there’s nothing to say, but because there’s probably too much to say. The silence is heavy, but not uncomfortable. If anything, the last twenty minutes or so have solidified the one thing I’ve always known but refused to trust—Silas and I are in this for the long run. Our paths and hearts are so wrapped around each other, there’s no way out of it. We’re inevitable.
Eventually, I break the silence.
“I’m sorry.”
Silas’s eyes stay on the cloudless sky. “It’s Lily that needs to hear that most. From both of us.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did though. I questioned her when I should have trusted her. She told me–“
“–how could we have known?”
