Page 33 of The List of Things

“Sorry... Didn’t mean to intrude.”

I look away from his hands, and look up at him now, watching his face as he watches me. I look away from him again and grab the premade pasta sauce. I twist the top, knowing I’m making the worst face known to man as I try my hardest to open the damn sauce.

“Can you... Open the jar?” I pass it to him as I struggle some more.

“Sure,” He agrees simply, taking the jar in his hands, opening it with ease, but his muscles still flex. The veins prominent in his hands and arms I look away, reaching for the jar, but he moves it away from me, holding it up and behind him. “Uh-uh. Hold on a minute...” He hesitates, his eyes catching mine.

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“What’s your deal?” He asks me, and I shake my head.

“I don’t have a deal, what are you even talking about?” I ask him.

“You do have a deal. With my hands or something… What’s the problem?” He asks me, and embarrassment settles throughout my entire body.

“There's no problem, give me the jar,” I hold my hand out, ignoring his heated question.

He doesn’t know it’s heated. I do though. I know just how heated it makes me feel. He puts his hand in mine, and I groan, slapping his hand down.

“See?” He asks, and I cross my arms again. He sets the jar down on the counter behind him.

“I see nothing. Aren’t you supposed to be doing something? Cutting? Being useful?” I ask.

I start to turn away, but before I can there’s a soft, and incredibly large hand holding my jaw. The feeling just his hand gives as he holds me exactly where he wants me is enough to send me into orbit. I stand incredibly still, my eyes fixed on him as he stands chest to chest with me, his hand still grasping my jaw. Not tight enough to hurt, but the perfect amount of force to have me at his will.

“How about I cut… to the chase here,” He speaks softly to me, looking down at me with expecting icy blue eyes.

“That was not as smooth as you think it was,” I insult him, and he lets his grasp loosen, his hand slowly moving down my neck, chills rolling over every inch of my body as he now flips my hair back over my shoulder.

He lets the same hand move down, and grasps my hip, pulling me forward, alleviating the little space that was left between us. There’s no room to move, the friction of our bodies sending shockwaves up my entire body. His opposite hand now moves to my face, cradling my cheek into his hand. My eyes flutter at the touch out of instinct, his thumb tracing over my cheek, my lip shaking at the touch, an unusual reaction from me. This is a lot. His touch is loaded with so much when it shouldn’t be at all.

“Is it okay if I get this part out of the way, Ryn?” He asks softly, and despite what I had said, telling him how un-smooth his last move was. This is all smooth, very, incredibly baby’s butt smooth.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, my words catching in my throat, and I mentally scream at myself, wondering why that of all things was the first thing I could get out.

“Uh-huh?” He asks, his chin tilting up, his eyes hazy and cool as he looks at me. He brings his other hand up slowly again, caressing my other cheek now. “So eager, aren’t you?” He jokes.

I roll my eyes, the burning, wanting, need in my chest exploding all at once. Desire clouds every ounce of my judgment. Curiosity finds itself in every corner of my mind on if his lips feel as good as they look.

“Can you just kiss me?” I ask him, and he does.

He wanted to wait for me to say it. For me to ask. For me to confirm with my words he is what I want, and he is right now. Dear god, it feels so innocent to be kissing him because I know that’s all this will be. Just a kiss.

But the way he presses his lips to mine. His body to mine, his hands to my face. I want everything all at once right here, right now.The counter is fine, and so is the floor.I tilt my head to the side, kissing him harder, standing on my tip toes now to reach the man in front of me. One of his hands moves from my cheek to the back of my head, threading through my hair, only to pull me closer to him. He feels every ounce of heat I do. He wants to be just as close as I do.

I pull him down to me by the back of his neck, angling him closer to me, giving me every bit of access I can have right now. He leans into me. His hand is moving once again, this time feeling its way down to my hip, gripping me tightly as he pushes me, and guides me back.

I can’t move. I don’t even think about it because I don’t want to.

Bellamy takes every ounce of control from my body and makes it his own. He uses it all, he overpowers me in the best way. His other hand is still threaded through my hair, and I take his lip between my teeth, nipping him softly, pulling it through my teeth. He breathes out, and I feel a tight pull on my hair, my head tipping back at his will, moving away from his lips. He doesn’t let himself slow down, his lips continue kissing me, everywhere but my lips, my jaw, my neck, and the moment his lips meet right under my ear, a soft bite, and then another harsh kiss mixing with the tight and pleasurably painful grip he has on my hair, I can’t help but let out the slightest moan. He pushes into me harder, my lower back hitting the cold counter.

“Fuck,” He groans into my mouth before he kisses me again.

He’s taller than me, far too tall in these moments when the two of us wish we could be as close as possible. In sync, we move together. With as little effort as possible, his large hands move to the back of my bare thighs under my shorts, and he’s lifting me up. He places me on the counter and places himself perfectly between my legs.

Bellamy Archer is a god on this campus for plenty of reasons, but I can worship this man for one specific reason… The way he kisses me. Like I’m the only thing that’s ever existed to him.

His hands are grabbing the tops of my thighs now, moving up to rest the bend between my thighs and my hips. His thumbs dig into the crease of my legs sending butterflies swarming through my entire body. He presses himself harder, his hips sitting between my legs. Just one movement gives me a single taste. Just one single movement makes me want him in every single way. He’s hard. He’s big. He wants me, and… we hear a sizzle, and pull our lips away from each other, looking over our shoulders. Bellamy reaches behind us, not removing himself from me as he turns down the heat on the stovetop, stopping it from overflowing anymore.

---