Page 120 of Backslide
“Holy fuck,” I say, dazed, looking at her.
“Holy fuck,” she says, looking at me.
We hear a creak to our right and both freeze. Turn in slo-mo. But it’s just a chicken.
“What if someone comes?” she whispers.
“Then they’re going to get a show.”
She laughs. But then she doesn’t.
Because there is no way either of us are stopping. No matter what happens. Because then my mouth is on her chest and she’sarching against me, her hands clawing at my shoulders, at the bulge in my pants.
And then I’m slipping my palms up under that skirt I’ve been trying not to fixate on all night long and pinning her hips against the slatted wall. My hands are rough against her insanely smooth skin. Our breath is heavy, in sync. My hands slide to cup her ass, as my fingertips graze the lace edge of her underwear and I pull her closer to me. I slip my thumbs into either side of her underwear at her hip bones and drag them down, so they fall to her ankles.
“Here?” she asks, surprise in her voice.
“Here,” I nod.
And she doesn’t protest.
Because then she’s stepping out of them in her heels and I’m bending to kneel in the grass, dropping between her legs and resting her thigh on my shoulder as I kiss up her inner leg and get to work.
24NELLIETODAY
We are out in the open. Outside. Anyone could stumble past. I can feel the breeze blowing by my exposed skin. It gives me goose bumps. But I don’t care.
Not anymore.
In this instant, I’m glad we kept things a secret. Because that secret let me keep what’s brewing between us for myself just a little longer. Hoard it away. That secret led us here, to this barn wall, rough against my back, my hands in his hair, so insane for him that I have to bite my cheek to stay quiet.
As everything pulls tight in me, I lose track of where the outer world ends and my insides begin, the stars populating the sky melding with the fireworks popping off behind my lids.
I’m kinetic, inside and out, as I tug on his shirt at the shoulder and pull him to standing.
“Had enough?” he asks, his lids heavy.
I shake my head, huffing. “I need more.”
He props a strong hand on the wall behind my head and leans in to kiss me again and, as much as I want it, I stop him, put a finger to his lips.
“Oh, see, but, wait. Because, well, look at you. And look at me.”
His eyes drop down to his own fully clothed body and then scan up my almost fully naked one.
“Looks right to me.”
He’s not wrong. I like the rub of his clothes against my bare skin. But I shake my head at him. Slowly, one by one, I undo each button on his shirt, torturing us both. I slip my hands inside, let them road trip across his warm chest, taking their time, then venture down to his taut stomach, slowly unzipping his pants and sliding my palm inside.
“Shit,” he groans, low and gravelly, burying his face in my neck. The sound travels through me like a drive on a bumpy road.
“Was it always like this?” I say, almost a whisper. “With us?”
Because I remember. But I don’t.
“I thought so,” he says. “But that was before I knewthisexisted.”
This thing, this revelation.
