Page 39 of A World Apart (Between Worlds #1)

I brushed my teeth and washed my face with practiced efficiency, all the while staring at the girl in the mirror, asking her what the hell her problem was.

Once done in the bathroom, I stripped off my clothes and shoved them back into the dino rucksack, clearing off the bed at the same time, until I was then confronted with the dilemma of pink or black.

I stared at the two scraps of lace after having mentally discarded the idea of sleeping in my t-shirt when it now smelt vaguely of beer and pizza.

Closing my eyes, I waved my finger around and then stopped, opening my eyes to see where I had pointed to. Pink it was.

It was a good fit, I thought at least. It was snug under my breasts, giving more support than I’d have thought it would. I did keep on my underwear though. The top may be enough to not wear my bra, but I wasn’t prepared to go bare-ass.

I turned off the light and slid into the massive bed, the sheets cool and comfortable against my flushed body, the buzz from the beer still tingling gently under my skin.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, my mind processing the events of the day.

It was so quiet that it felt like my thoughts were shouting inside my head.

I tossed, and I turned and when I huffed in frustration and looked at my phone, only half an hour had passed.

I turned on the bedside lamp, the soft glow barely illuminating the room; a reading light, at best.

I flipped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, the fan spinning gently and with quiet efficiency.

With more determination than I felt, I threw the covers off and rolled out of bed, striding towards the door before I could talk myself out of it.

I pulled open the door, ready to stride down the corridor, but instead nearly crashed into Jihoon, silently standing outside my door, a hand raised as if he were about to knock.

“Whoa,” he gasped, catching me about my arms to stop me from falling forward.

“Jihoon,” I panted, adrenaline pounding through me from both the shock and my loss of balance. “What are you doing?”

He released my arms and ducked his head, rubbing a hand down his neck.

“I, ah, I was coming to see if you were okay.”

Silence stretched between us in the darkness.

“Wait,” he said, looking back up at me, although I could barely make out his face, “what were you doing?”

I felt the familiar flush crawling up my neck, but a sudden recklessness squashed it back down and I said, “Coming to see you.”

“Is everything okay?”

I actually hadn’t thought this far ahead, hadn’t thought what I would say. So, I went with the truth.

“Stay with me tonight. I want you to.” I swallowed, my toes digging into the plush carpet under my feet, feeling the weight of his gaze on me.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered, firmly.

“Okay.”

I moved back a step and held the door open wider for him to step through, and then closed it behind him.

I watched him approach the bed to stand by the side I had just vacated, and in the light of the dim lamp, I saw he was again shirtless, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting shorts.

The light turned his skin into gold and for a moment, I was frozen to the spot where I stood.

Until he turned to me, his face so unassuming, so normal, even in the unbelievably attractive sense.

I took the handful of steps towards him that it took to reach the bed and, as I stepped into the small ring of light, Jihoon’s eyes met mine, and then travelled down the length of my body. His dark eyes widened as they slowly made their way back up, meeting my own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for me and pulling me closer towards him.

I went willingly, but he didn’t try to kiss me.

Instead, he lay his forehead against my own and together we stood there, just breathing in each other’s presence, the glow of the lamp like a bubble in which only we existed, if only for this moment.

I lay my hands against his forearms, feeling the strength just under the skin, the firm but gentle way he held me. It was everything.

Eventually, Jihoon pulled back and looked down at me, his expression unreadable.

“It’s late,” he said. I nodded, and he pulled back the covers and moved aside so I could slide in.

He pulled the covers up to my shoulders and turned off the lamp, and it was only from the weak light of the moon coming in through the windows that I saw as he moved around the bed to get in the other side.

I felt the bed dip as he slid in, but he was far enough away from me that I couldn’t reach him, even as I extended my arm out.

Then I felt his fingers on mine as he reached for me and there, in the dark, in a bed that didn’t belong to either of us, we held onto each other.

My eyes closed and sleep claimed me soon after.

I woke up in the still-dark room, and for a moment I didn’t know where I was.

The almost-silent hum of the over-head fan as it spun softly was the first thing I heard, grounding me enough to wake up a little.

I then became aware of a warm, firmness underneath me and I tentatively moved my fingers.

Instantly I knew I was lying on top of Jihoon.

I must have shimmied over here in my sleep, because I was now lying over half of his body, my head and torso sprawled over his chest like he was a body pillow and ? I moved my leg slightly ? yup, my leg was thrown over his hip and rested in between his legs, the little hairs on his thighs tickling my calf when I’d moved.

I knew I should move, I just really didn’t want to.

I listened to him breathe; deep, soft inhales that gently rocked me up and then down, a calming motion I couldn’t bear to disturb.

The warmth of his skin against mine was like a balm.

It seemed to go deeper than surface level touch, I felt it sink into me in a way it never had before.

He was like the first, perfect sip of hot chocolate on a cold, winter’s day, the heat chasing the chill away as it spreads through your whole body.

For some inexplicable reason, I felt my eyes prickling as waves of emotion crested over me in ways I was unprepared for .

I didn’t consciously move, but I wound my arm around his chest tighter and took a deep breath, inhaling the way he smelt of soap and clean skin.

I must have woken him when I’d moved, because he reached across his body to run his fingers up my arm. I tilted my head up just as he tilted his head down and we met each other’s gaze.

“Why are you crying?” he said softly, his voice deep from sleep, his accent more pronounced.

I ran a thumb underneath my eye and it came away wet. “I don’t know,” I confessed.

Gently, he lifted his hand and wiped away the tear that had run down my cheek.

I stared at him, eyes accustomed enough to the dark to make out his face, before I remembered how I was sprawled over him like a blanket.

I made to shift, mumbling a weak apology, but instead of letting me rise, he firmly held me to him.

“Don’t move, I like you here.” He ran a hand up and down my spine in a way that must have been meant to soothe, but instead ignited something inside me, a fire I’d been teetering on the edge of all day, and when his fingertips grazed the base of my spine, my back arched involuntarily, pressing my breasts more firmly against his chest and throwing my head back.

I looked at Jihoon’s face through eyes half lidded, my mouth parted on a sigh and silently begged him to close the distance between us.

Whatever expression he saw on my face was encouragement enough, it seemed, as Jihoon’s other hand trailed up my arm to my neck, his thumb tracing circles in the hollow of my throat before moving up more firmly to cup my jaw.

He paused a moment, gaze locked with mine, before he closed the distance and pressed his lips against mine.

I groaned against him, my fingers curling on his chest, a delicious slow-burn coiling deep in my belly.

His lips moved against mine, softly at first, but I needed more.

I wound my arms up and around his neck, pulling him towards me and pressing our bodies firmly together until I could feel the contours of his muscled arms and chest against me.

Jihoon deepened the kiss, rolling over so that he was now lying on his side, facing me, his tongue teasing my bottom lip.

It still wasn’t enough. I rolled onto my back, pulling him with me until he lay partially on top of me, his legs to the side so he wasn’t pressing me into the mattress with his weight.

I sighed in contented pleasure as I bent my knee up to cage him in on one side.

Though I had no prior experience, everything felt so natural.

I wanted to feel the way his body pressed against mine, wanted it with a need that I’d never felt before.

Jihoon pulled back and I almost whimpered.

His face hovered some inches above mine as he locked eyes with me, panting softly.

In silence, we watched each other, for what I wasn’t sure, until I felt his hand pressing softly to my chest, just above the lace that cupped my breasts.

I took a shuddering inhale as his hand moved, oh so softly downward, until his hand rested gently on my breast, cupping me.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly and without hesitation I nodded, silently urging him on.

He ran that hand down from my breast and down my ribs, his fingers dancing lightly over the thin fabric that still covered me, sending shivers that radiated outward to the far reaches of my body like tiny, exploding fireworks.

As his fingertips travelled further down, tracing a map of my body in undulating, delicious little waves, I began to ache in a way I never had before.

A tense pressure of clenched muscles, straining in anticipation.