Page 48 of The Intimacy of Skin

The masterpiece came back, brighter than before.

This time, my eyes were wide open when it appeared.

My muscles tensed together as my lungs seized, the air getting stuck in my throat as pleasure built and built.

My jaw ached as I opened it, my body practically convulsing on Price’s fingers as my cock throbbed with ropes and ropes of cum that spilled beneath me.

I felt myself clench and unclench repeatedly, fluttering around him as I began to slow to a dribble.

When I finally took a breath, the world began to spin. I was dizzy and wrung out. Price let me slump down, falling onto the bed with an ungraceful thump.

He was whispering something. I was too gone to understand him for a while. He left at some point, returning with what felt like a towel to rub over my skin.

I rolled over when prompted, jerking slightly when he ran the towel over my thigh. I could hear him then.

“Sorry, baby. Had to clean you up. You did so good, Crew. So fucking good for me.”

The words were warm. Not as hot as fire or as threatening as lava. Just warm like late summer nights in the country when our shitty window unit stopped working .

Comforting. Nostalgic, almost.

And when Price began to kiss all over my skin, resting his lips longer than necessary on my cheeks, I felt complete in a way. He pecked me over and over. The tip of my nose, the end of my chin, just beside the corner of my mouth.

I was curled onto my side, suddenly enveloped in Price’s hold. It was strong. Sure. Confident. I had been craving it without ever noticing it.

His hand rubbed up and down my side, detouring every now and then to splay across my stomach.

Time waited for us. It didn’t pass us by, or disappear, or suddenly stop.

The world understood what we needed more than we did.

I opened my eyes, staring at the windows.

My curtains weren’t shut yet. It was dark aside from the glaring city lights and a hint of the moon.

My room was my favorite in the house, not only because it was mine, but because of the view I had of the sky.

Whether it was the moon, the sun, or an empty void, I’d always had something to keep me company.

When I opened my box of secrets, I kept the curtains wide open.

I’d sob under whatever light the sky would offer me.

Sometimes, if I looked up, I could swear I saw Mom.

She’d be high up there, smiling down at me. Like looking in the mirror, except her hair was a golden halo where mine was an intimidating forest. I think it was the universe’s way of apologizing to me. That, or I was crazier than I thought.

Light specks flurried over the windows. They caught the light just so that I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. I squinted, moving as close as I could without rolling off the bed.

Price’s strokes stopped on my side. “You good?” he asked from behind me.

I nodded. A slow, almost freeing grin crept up on my face. I moved out of Price’s hold, planting my feet onto the cold hardwood floor. Pressed as close to the window as possible, I looked up.

The moon and I stared at each other. I wondered if Willow was watching. I wondered if Mom would show up even though I wasn’t crying. Whispering against the glass, I tracked an errant snowflake as it fell. “It’s snowing.”

“Is it?”

“Just a little bit, but yeah. Come look.”

Price came to stand beside me, our bare shoulders grazing each other. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah. Reminds me of Christmas.”

“Do you like Christmas?” He wasn’t looking at the snow anymore. I could feel his gaze on me.

I huffed something close to a laugh. It was strained and raw. My voice caught in my throat with it, wobbling unnaturally. “Reminds me of my mom. Willow and I haven’t really celebrated it since she died.”

“I bet that’s hard.”

“Harder for Willow. She loved Christmas. Still does.” The glass was cold, just like the floor beneath my feet. I traced a fingertip down the pane, following a trail of melted snow that ran down it. “What about you? Do you like Christmas?”

He tilted his head, his skin glowing from the lights.

Price looked beautiful. Ethereal. Strong.

“My answer is a bit complicated, too. We always went to my grandma’s house for holidays.

She died when I was young, and I wasn’t all that close to her.

Once she passed, holidays became a chore.

That, and Dad was so deep in his addiction that they became an afterthought more than anything. ”

“I’m sorry. People will preach about the importance of family and love on holidays, only to turn around and make it all about them.” I pulled the curtain closed. With Price’s hand in mine, I led us back to the bed.

The moment we hit the mattress, I was caged in by Price’s arms. He held me the same way he had months ago, like I was precious. Something to be cherished. I’d never thought too hard about it during our cuddle sessions. If I had, I think I would’ve broken a long time ago.

I lay my head against his chest, curling into him. My demons could attack me later. For now, I wanted to be near him.

Vibrations rumbled underneath my ears, tracing my jaw as Price spoke. “I think you guys should celebrate this year. Maybe I can come over and cook a Christmas dinner for us.”

I briefly imagined it. Sharing a proper meal with the spirit of Christmas all around us. It made me feel warm. “I like the sound of that. Did you ever do something like that with Samantha?”

Regret tinged my cheeks red as Price tensed beneath me. I peeked up at him in time to see the silhouette of him shake his head. “No, actually. She’d invite me to do something, but I always said no. It didn’t feel right.”

There was something unspoken in his confession. I guessed we were both hiding things from each other. “But it does with me?”

I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but I could feel his eyes on me. If the lights were on, I was sure I’d see something twinkle in his amber eyes. “Everything feels right with you, baby.”

Any other time, I would’ve chastised him for calling me that. The me from a few months ago would’ve slapped him square in the face for it.

The me now? I was rolling in it. Loving it. I wanted him to call me that a million more times.

“Everything feels right with you, too.”

If only that admission didn’t hurt so badly.

If only the idea of splitting myself open for him wasn’t terrifying.

I didn’t want to let go of Price, and I didn’t want him to let go of me.

I just had no fucking idea how to let go of my old life and create a new one where gentle love was a possibility.