Page 128 of Tell Me When It's Over

Eventually, he grabs my wrists to stop me from hitting him again. He holds them loosely, only enough to keep me still. His eyes are sad as they watch me breakdown, my legs giving out from under me.

Ky catches me before I hit the ground, picking me up and carrying me upstairs. I nuzzle my wet face against his chest and let my tears soak into his shirt. When he sets me down on his bed, he doesn’t let me go. He slides in with me, keeping me curled into his side while I let it out.

Everything I’ve felt since the accident.

Since coming to California.

Since realizing I’m on my own.

I choke out, “I miss her.”

“I know you do,” he murmurs, still brushing my hair in comforting strokes.

“I don’t hate her.”

He hums.

This time when I say it, I feel it in my bones, and the anger inside me releases. “I don’t hate her at all, Ky. Or you. But what you did hurt, and I pretended it didn’t for so long.” Sniffling, I feel exhaustion sweep over me. “I forgive her.”

I pause. “I forgive you too.”

My body is wrapped in a tangle of limbs. A leg with coarse hair scrapes against one of my soft calves, inner knee, and thigh, moving up, up, up until the bare knee is settled in the space between my legs. Sucking in a sharp breath as it starts rocking against me, I bite into my bottom lip as a hot sensation burns in the bottom of my stomach. We’re both laying on our sides facing each other, exactly how we fell asleep, chest against chest, with my face burrowed into the space between a soapy-smelling neck and shoulder.

His black t-shirt is still on, but at some point he must have gotten too warm and kicked off the sweatpants he was wearing when he crawled in bed, because that’s definitely a naked leg rubbing me right—Oh.

Wetting my bottom lip, I listen closely to his even breathing. I’ve heard it enough times to know he’s still sleeping, unaware of where his leg is or what it’s doing, and I have two options. Move away and hope it doesn’t wake him, or stay right where I am. I know what the smartest option is, but the way my body reacts to the mindless movement clouds my judgement and my lips part when his knee applies just enough pressure to the very center of me that I flutter out a breathy moan.

And that…that clearly triggers something in him because suddenly I’m on my back and my arms are being pinned to the pillow on either side of my head and his body, his very much still asleep body, is moving over me. I’m about to tell him to wake up because I don’t know what’s going through his mind, if he wants this or if we’re ready for this yet, but then he does something that shuts me up completely.

He rolls his hips into the spot between my parted legs and a very, very hard part of him grinds into the softest part of me. Lips still parted, my eyes roll back as his hands tighten around my

wrists, keeping them where they are, and his breathing hitches when he repeats the same movement with his hips until it sparks something deep in my core.

Jaw quivering, my legs widen on instinct, letting him settle between them easier as he continues doing…whatever it is he’s doing. Is he dreaming? Does he think…?

Tell me when to stop. I know I need to tell him to, but I don’t. For the first time in…maybe ever, I let myself feel what his body is doing to mine. The way his hard length pushes against my thin sleep shorts does little to act as a barrier, and the seam of my pajamas only creates more friction against the bundle of nerves that makes me hum with more need.

Kyler’s hands slide upward until our fingers our linked together, and we’re holding hands on the pillow. I’m not sure what comes over me, but my lips brush the column of his neck lightly, testing the waters, before grazing another lush kiss on the underside of his jaw.

The little breath that escapes him accompanies his hips shifting upward until my body arches as he hits that one precious spot over and over like maybe, just maybe, it’s on purpose. I want to hold onto his shoulders, dig my nails into his flesh, and ride the wave he’s giving me, but I’m too afraid he’ll wake up and stop. And I know there’s a chance he doesn’t know he’s doing it but—

The growled “Leighton” that passes his lips changes everything, breaking whatever train of thought I’m lost in. My arms wrap around his neck as my teeth bite into his throat where my face is still buried, and his hips grind into me harder before…stopping.

His body turns to rock above me, on me, freezing. His breathing becomes nonexistent, and I know he woke up.

I say the words that break the silence, holding onto the fact he hasn’t launched off the bed and started apologizing. I don’t want him to. If anything, I want him to finish this. To let me feel what I’ve never felt with anybody before. Not even my own hand because nerves always get the better of me when I try thinking of the person I should have been touching myself to. Except it was never Chase’s face my mind conjured an image of when I spread my legs, dipped my hands in my shorts, and toyed with the little button of nerves that would set me off.

Shame would always fill my conscience, stopping me from continuing, and that same feeling of wrongness isn’t anywhere in my thoughts in this instant.

I whisper, “Please don’t stop,” holding onto him tighter, worried he’ll try to leave, to climb off me.

His body remains tense as he looks down, eyes wide as he sees what I can imagine is a flushed face and glassy eyes full of lust that, I think, matches the glaze in his. I’m no expert, but I’ve seen what it looks like when someone wants you. I saw it with the men Mom brought around, and I saw it late at night when I worked closing shift at the truck stop with strange guys lingering, and I especially see it whenever Mia and Dylan look at each other.

“I don’t want to stop,” I tell him, voice shaky like I’m waiting for the inevitable.

He doesn’t move. Not to push off me, not to leave the room, but he also doesn’t continue the blissful buildup I ache for.

Maybe later I’ll feel embarrassed for what comes out of my mouth next, but I can’t make myself care when the need building inside me is too much. I need Kyler. “I’ve never had…” Swallowing, I hold onto him tighter as his head drops into the crook of my neck, his breathing shallow. “I’ve never had an orgasm before,” I get out, noticing his forearms clenching from where they hold him up beside my head.

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