Page 99 of Every Thought Taken

Not a second after I pull the covers to her chin, her hand wraps around my wrist. “Stay,” she whispers.

It’s late, after midnight. Ales will wring my neck if I disturb her beauty sleep, especially on a weeknight. “Are you sure?”

Every night of our trip, Helena slept close or in my arms. And every night since our return, my sleep has been shit because we were in separate beds, in separate spaces, blocks apart. The idea of slipping between her sheets, wrapping her in my arms, and drifting off with her has me exhilarated and terrified.

“Yes.” She whips the covers back and inches across the mattress, giving me room.

Shoving aside any doubts, I tug my shirt over my head, unbutton my jeans and slide them down, then crawl in the bed. Blanket pulled up, I wrap an arm around her waist and haul her closer. Mold every dip and curve of her body to mine. As I breathe in her sweet floral and amber scent, my eyes drift shut and I relax into her embrace.

Without thinking, I dip down and kiss the sensitive skin beneath her ear. She doesn’t react and I assume she fell back asleep. Until her fingers on my arm draw slow, lazy circles and her hips shift slightly. I press my lips to her skin again but make no move to pull away. For a moment, I relish in her warmth and the pounding of her pulse beneath my lips. Instinct takes over as my tongue darts out and tastes her skin.

So much sweeter than I remember.

Then she is twisting in my arms. Her hand trails up my bare chest, over my shoulder, and up the back of my neck into my hair. Her fingers curl in my strands a breath before her lips crash down on mine.

Fire floods my veins as I kiss her back. My skin buzzes as she inches closer, our bodies flush from shoulder to hips. With each kiss of her lips, my breathing becomes more jagged. Stilted. My heart bangs against my rib cage, begging for this moment to never end.

My tongue darts out and licks the seam of her lips. She gasps and opens up for me. Invites me in with a swipe of her tongue. And damn, nothing has tasted so divine or felt this euphoric. Our tongues tangle and I taste her for the first time in far too long.

Fingers knead and grope and caress. Arms tighten their hold. Lips kiss as teeth nip and tongues taste.

And it takes every ounce of strength to resist doing more. To peel her clothes off and shape my body to hers without barriers. To taste more than her mouth. Her skin and lips and tongue taste better than I remember. A little salty with a hint of sweetness.

Is the saltiness of her arousal beyond sublime? I never went down on Helena when we were younger. Immaturity plus our combined lack of knowledge of physical intimacy—and our short-lived relationship after sex entered the equation—left us in the dark when it came to oral pleasure. But god, how I ache to dip my tongue between her thighs now.

I have no expectation of tonight being more than this—wild kisses and light petting—but my body begs for more, craves more. Much as I wanted to take things slow, I won’t be able to deny this hunger for long. The more time we spend together, the harder it is to refuse Helena or myself what we both want. If she begs, I will cave.

The hand not in my hair strokes over the bulge in my briefs and my grip on her tightens. A moan spills from me into her. My eyes roll back in my head as her fingers curl around my length.

Goddamn.

Her hands on me feel incredible. Up and down, she strokes my hard length through my briefs. Rocks her hips in time with her strokes.

Fuck.

If I don’t stop her now, I’ll not only break the waiting rule, but I’ll also make a mess. My mind says stop while my body begs for this moment to never end. And because I want more than sex with Helena, I listen to my big head.

Reaching between us, I lay a hand over hers and freeze. I count to three, suck her bottom lip between mine, and then break the kiss. “We should stop,” I whisper against her lips.

She leans in, presses her lips to mine, and tries to deepen the kiss. But I keep my lips sealed. Inching back, her eyes search out mine in the darkness. She pulls her hand between my legs away as a deep crease forms between her brows. “Did I do something wrong?” Her voice cracks at the end.

I haul her to my chest and wrap her in a ferocious hug. “God, no. Quite the opposite.” Loosening my hold on her, I kiss her hair. Bring a hand to her cheek, tip her head back, and level her with my stare. See a hint of glassiness in her eyes as I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “Believe me, I want more.” I drop my lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “So much more. But not tonight.” I kiss her forehead. “I want to wait. Want to do things right.”

She leans into my touch. Twists and kisses my palm. And with a slow nod, she whispers a barely audible, “Okay.”

Dropping my forehead to hers, my eyes fall shut. The tip of my nose caresses the bridge of hers. “I love you, North. Always.” I suck in a sharp breath. “You were my first. I want you to also be my last.”

Wetness hits my hand. “Ander,” she chokes out. “Love you too. Always.” She kisses my palm again. “I want that too. To be your last, and for you to be mine.”

CHAPTER55

HELENA

Shiny and bright. That’s all I think as I survey the room around us. Bless my best friend for wanting to celebrate me and Anderson, but this is a bit over the top.

The Friday night dinner crew is present, plus the addition of August and Sharon. Ten of us total and, for whatever inexplicable reason, Lessa decorated the Java and Teas Me dining room for a party of fifty.

“Uh.” My eyes scan every inch of the room. Take in the big shiny letters that spell outHappy Birthdaybeneath the menu board. Sheets of shiny thin strips hang throughout the dining area like disco-era curtains. Several tables are shoved together, a sheet cake in the middle with four number candles to make twenty-four and twenty-seven. Party hats and kazoos and sashes that readBirthday GirlandBirthday Boy. “This is…”

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