Page 49 of White Horizons

Looks like there is something to look forward to in Austin after all.

“Good. Then it’s a date.”

My eyebrows arch at her use of the word date, and her eyes grow wide.

“You know what I mean,” she says to try to backtrack. Embarrassment slips over her features, and that’s the last thing I want her to feel.

I hesitate for just a second and then slowly smile. “I do. A date sounds good.”

A date sounds fantastic, actually.

Quickly leaning forward, she drops my hand, wraps her arms around me, and hugs me. My senses are invaded with the lavender smell that is all her and the feel of her body pressed up against mine. As if on autopilot, my arms return the gesture and wrap around her too.

She snuggles in, squeezing me tighter, and my chin drops to rest on top of her head.

My eyes drift shut as I soak in these few stolen moments with her, until she whispers, “Closer.”

Picking her up, I put her back against the door for extra support. Her legs wrap around my waist, and we cling to each other as she buries her head in the space between my neck and collarbone. She’s so light and tiny, fitting here perfectly.

Time passes as I memorize the feel of her heartbeat against mine. It would be so easy to fall into sync with hers. She has no idea what she does to me.

“I’m glad I got to see you today,” she mumbles against my skin, and it shoots electricity straight to my groin.

“Me too.” I inhale through my nose, taking deep breaths to keep all the blood in my body from running south.

Behind the door, we can hear people passing by. Some are laughing, others are talking on their phones, and then there are the moments of silence. I’m so content to just hold her I could do it for hours just to keep her near.

What is it about this one girl? I’ve met more women in my lifetime than most can even imagine, and not one of them has ever made me feel the way she does. It’s like I have this magnetic pull, and no matter how hard I try to break it, nothing works. I want this girl, there’s no denying that; I’m just not sure how to navigate these waters.

A deep sound is pulled from inside me as she moves her head from my shoulder so her lips slide across my cheek to the corner of my mouth where she exhales. She’s made the first move, and I’m not going to pass up this opportunity.

“Do you think of me as much as I think of you?” she asks. Mint and sweetness waft over me, and instead of answering her, I seal my lips to hers.

Kissing Emma is like going home. It’s familiar in a way it shouldn’t be, and although my heart rate is increasing, it’s strange because, at the same time, I feel it settle.

Then again, knowing what I know and remembering what I went through because of her, I need to remind myself of that and not settle too comfortably.

As I tilt her head to just where I want her, the damp slip of our lips from her flavored gloss gives me the opening that I want—no, need. I didn’t even know I needed this today, but now that we’re here, I feel more at peace than I have in weeks.

I also feel on fire.

Over and over my lips take hers. Her hands are in my hair, and one of mine has slipped under her ass to hold her up while the other has wrapped around the side of her face and half her neck. I can’t get close enough. I wouldn’t say this kiss is hurried, because it’s not. It’s more like starvation and we need this to survive.

It’s the way our tongues wrap around each other, the occasional click of our teeth, how we’re tasting and memorizing. It’s enough but not enough at the same time as one of her arms has wrapped around me, almost viselike, and her other hand has made its way into my hair. I love when she pulls my hair, and it has me rocking my hips into hers just to have that moment of friction.

“Clay.” She says my name in a way that sounds almost painful, and I understand, I do.

“Emma.” I breathe out, and she pushes her chest further into mine.

Pulling my hand from her face, I run it down her body until my hand finds her breast and my thumb swipes across her nipple. She lets out another sound, and I swallow it. No one tastes the way she tastes or feels the way she feels, and I know how good it is with her. It would be so easy to turn her around, lay her across the table in this room, strip off her pants, and lose myself inside of her. But I can’t.

Maybe that was the problem before.We went way too fast and ignored the part where we should have gotten to know each other better first. I could have saved myself a lot of misery if I’d just asked if she was seeing anyone else. Instead, I learned that lesson the hard way.

But what a night it was.

Dragging my hand lower, I wrap it around her ribcage and then skate it over her hip. I love her tiny curves. Anchoring her more to the wall, I run both of my hands up and down her thighs and around her ass. She’s so light, and gripping her and moving her in a way that feels incredible to both of us is so easy.

It’s when she pulls on my shirt looking for skin that I know I have to slow this down. As much as it pains me, both emotionally and physically, we’re not going there, not here.

---