Page 88 of Love Me Steadfast
Fuck. Me.
Charlotte sprints past me, laughing. “Gotta catch me first!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
WILLIAM (AGE 16)
Though she’s a fast walker,Charlotte’s no match for me in a sprint. She cuts left, darting into a cluster of giant aspens. I leave my bucket behind and lunge, hooking her around the waist.
She shrieks with laughter, the force of her forward momentum testing my balance. I pull her to me, her back to my chest. We come to a stop, both of us breathing hard. I press my face into her sun-warmed hair and inhale her gingerbread scent now mixed with blackberries and sweet earth. I draw it all the way into my senses so I’ll never forget it.
“William,” she huffs, leaning back into me, her breathy whisper laced with something desperate.
“Don’t tell me to let go.” I slide my nose along the back of her ear. I brush my lips against her skin. She tilts her head to the side like an invitation.
“Okay,” she pants. “I won’t.”
My pulse leaps into my throat and my heart is beating so hard I’m sure she can feel it against her spine. I urge the handle of her bucket from her grip and press a soft kiss to the back of her ear. A quiver vibrates down her stomach.
I set her bucket down and kiss lower, to the soft curve of her neck, and suck her skin between my lips, savoring the hint of sweat and her warmth.
Her thighs tense together, which makes the tight curves of her ass rub against my dick. I barely catch the groan before it leaves my lips. She reaches up, her fingers sliding through my hair, like she’s trying to keep me close. I’m getting painfully hard against my zipper and I’ve barely touched her. Fuck, we haven’t even made out yet. We’ve barely kissed.
But I’ve been dreaming about her nonstop. Dreaming about kissing her. Touching her. Unlocking all her secrets.
Everything is different with her. But there’s something familiar about it too. Like this isn’t the first time I’ve fallen for her. Like we’re picking up where we left off in a past life. I can’t explain it, and I’m really fucking ready to stop fighting it. Pretending it’s not what I feel.
I press my hand to the plane of her stomach, right below the waistband of her shorts. If nothing else to keep her from rubbing against me like that. Doesn’t she know what that does to me? Her breath stutters in her throat and her chest is rising and falling with her quickening breaths. I spin her around and back her against the nearby aspen, then pin her hip in place and lean in. For an instant, I think she’s going to stop me, but then her lips part and her lashes flutter closed. I kiss her, sucking on her plush bottom lip, then swirling with my tongue. She fists the center of my T-shirt and kisses me back, her soft lips so full and tender against mine, her tongue soft and so fucking sexy, a shiver rolls down my back.
There’s an intensity to her kisses, like she’s as hungry for me as I am for her. Like she’s not afraid to give in to what she wants. To be on the receiving end of that is fucking addicting. A little surprising, given how by-the-book she always plays it. Always so put together. In control.
That I could be the one to break through all of that, to get a glimpse of what she keeps locked away…it hits me in my deepest place. Makes me fall even harder. Because we’re not so different that way. The person I am for my team and at school…it’s only a part of who I am. The real me wants more than to be some jock. With Charlotte, I feel like maybe that’s possible.
A breeze stirs the branches above us, making the golden evening light dance around us and filling the air with the whisper-hush of quaking leaves. I step closer, bringing our bodies into contact, and kiss her again, willing time to slow down. Because I know what’s coming at the end of this kiss and I’m not ready.
I will never be ready.
I’ve kissed plenty of girls, but none of those encounters comes close to what I’m feeling right now. Like gravity could stop working, and I’d be content to float away as long as I get to take her with me.
I edge underneath her T-shirt’s hem to touch her warm, bare skin, memorizing the perfect dip of her waist. Her breath hitches at the contact, and her eyes flutter open. I stare down at her, breathing fast, my fingers gripping her gently, but with enough pressure to feel the tremor running like an electric current just under her skin, the steady rise and fall of each breath.
She’s still fisting my shirt like she thinks I might stop kissing her.
“Is this okay?” I ask, feathering my thumb in little circles above her hip.
She gives a shaky sigh. “What about…”
“Nobody has to know.” I wince in anguish because only an asshole would say something so careless.
Her eyes flash with hurt.
“Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.” I press my forehead to hers, and to my relief, she doesn’t push me away, instead giving a slow sigh.
“How did you mean it?” she asks in a rush, letting go of my shirt and pressing her hand to the center of my chest.
I clasp it in place, like it can keep her from pushing me away. Not that I’d stop her, but… “It doesn’t have to be impossible.” Fuck, it’s just like that stupid song.
“What are you even asking me?” she says, her gaze lifting, those gorgeous hazel eyes searching mine for the truth.
