Page 70

I grab his wrists, squeezing as he pulls my panties down. Or tries to. I hold his hands still. “I, uh… what?”
“I got you,” he whispers, sincerity in his eyes. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know but… it’s embarrassing. I didn’t shave.” I’m making excuses because I don’t know what to expect. And thinking about a boy’s mouth on me, down there, it’s freaking embarrassing.
“You’re perfect.” He smiles again, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Would you let me?”
Blowing out a breath, I prop my head back against the seat and stare up at the headliner in his truck. And then it happens, his tongue makes contact with my clit for the first time, and he groans. He closes his lips around my clit and sucks, his grunt vibrating through my center at the same time his fingers push inside me.
“The entire drive here, I was hard thinking of doing this to you.”
I don’t say anything to him. I can’t form words at how good this feels. It’s so much more than dry humping him, or even having his hands on me. This… this is intimate. This is something you share with someone you trust.
Wanting more, I spread my legs and my hands find their way to his hair, gripping as he continues to suck, lick, and bring me to another orgasm.
I don’t remember when it happens, or when it ends, but I do recall the sense of pride I have in myself when he holds my head in his hands, panting, “Fuck, baby,” as he pulses in my mouth. When he’s finished, I swallow, and he smiles. “That’s my girl.”
I straddle him, still bare from the waist down. He’s still hard between me and I grind into him, coating him with my wetness. “When I’m eighteen, will you?”
He nods, pushing my hair from my face and cups my cheeks, but no words. “When you’re eighteen, you’re mine. Forever.”
I search his eyes, wanting so badly to ask if I’m his girlfriend, or if he loves me like I love him, but too afraid of the denial that might follow. I’m on the edge, waiting for him to fall with me, trying to catch my breath, and he’s showing me I don’t need to breathe to feel alive. I can love him from a distance until he’s brave enough to reach for what’s always been his.
28
WHEN I SAW HIS FEAR
When school lets out, I’m anxious, thinking maybe this might be the year Ender and I are finally together. I’ll be eighteen soon enough and I know that’s the only thing stopping him.
I drive myself up to the lake. Aunt Leslie isn’t home the day I get there, but I have a key and let myself in. As I walk through her home, I don’t have a chance to get comfortable before Arya is there, waiting for me, towel and sunglasses ready. “It’s beach time, bitch.”
“It’s a lake.” I laugh, peeling off my shirt, ready for some sunshine and water.
She hands me a can of wine she probably got from the gas station. “Girl, look at you filling out all your curves.” She tries to grab my hips. “Ender’s gonna freak.”
My cheeks blush. “He saw me last month. He knows.”
“Yeah, I’m still pissed off the bitch didn’t take me.”
I laugh, knowing they would have killed each other after a five-hour drive together.
Arya and I make our way down to the lake, steam rolling from the docks as water gets splashed on the scorching planks, country music, suntan lotion, sneaking beer and rum, the laughter, the freedom, all of it. I live for it.
Soaking up precious rays of light, my cup of mostly pirate rum is covered in condensation as we lay in the grass with our towels.
Myles sprays sunblock in Arya’s hair. She screamed and chases him as he runs up the grass toward the house. It’s the second time he’s done that today. He’s thirteen this year and full of piss and vinegar.
When Arya returns, she’s laughing. “Myles is a little fucker.” She laughs again, standing next to my towel, fixing her hair, out of breath. “And look at Ender.” She points to him, gasping to gain some control, and I glance over my shoulder. “I don’t know who he’s fooling. He’s not a badass like he thinks he is.”
Oh, but he is to me. I can’t take my eyes off Ender. He has no shoes on, just black-and-gray board shorts that hang low on his hips. His shirt is off, his skin tanned and toned like always. The year has treated him well in regard to his appearance. He’s bulking up, his chest, arms, and stomach bulging muscles I can’t wait to have underneath my fingertips when the sun goes down. He’s leaning against the railing on the deck talking on his cell phone with a mischievous grin, watching me.
“When did he get here?”
Arya sighs, lathering up her shoulders with sunscreen. “I think just now. Dad’s not here this week so I’m assuming that’s the only reason he’s here.”
Or maybe he’s here to see me, because last night when he called me, he told me I’m the only reason he leaves work these days. If it wasn’t for me, he’d be gone. Where, I don’t know.
I take a drink from my cup and return my gaze to the lake. I wonder if anything will change this summer.