chest. It looks small and pale on his black top. When I flatten my palm, he closes his eyes. One, two, three heartbeats later, he opens them up and all jokes vanish. The tent swells with unspoken words, hunger etched on his face, darkness in his eyes. I’ve never wanted anything as bad as this. Sam. His mouth on mine. His hands on me. To feel like I belong to him, if only for a minute.
Not knowing why, my hand floats from his chest up to his chin, to the scar embedded under his stubble. I trace the indentation, the way he often does, and our lips part at the same moment, his eyes burning into mine. Fierce. Beautiful. Perfect. Those are the words that describe this man. “God, I wish you were mine,” I say. Like out loud? Those words were supposed to be on mute. Unspoken. A silent prayer.
That’s when he growls.
Twelve
Sam
She’s touching my face, tracing my scar, and I’m not sure how we got here. I’m not sure of anything anymore except how badly I want to dive into Nina. This girl, on this night, in this tent, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My chest spasms from the tightness, and I’ve never been so hard and desperate for a girl. Ever. I swear, if I could bury myself inside of her, she could make me whole again.
I knew I was asking for trouble, renting this tent and sleeping next to her. I must’ve been on crack thinking I could hold back. Resist her. I want her so damn bad, but I’m realizing with each passing minute her rejection is bound to kill me. I can’t let her see the flesh beneath my flannels.
Then she says, “God, I wish you were mine.”
My self-control snaps. A growl rips from my throat and her lips part—an invitation. A plea. I can’t stop myself. Our lips connect, those soft, pink lips, and she tastes like cherry and sex. I slide my tongue against hers and she responds willingly, her hands tugging my neck closer, pulling at my hair. Jesus. I try to take it slowly, be gentle. With her phobias, I doubt she’s had much experience, and I don’t want to frighten her. Apparently, she has different ideas. She arches her breasts toward me and claims my mouth, her teeth on my lips, her tongue unforgiving. I match her intensity, driving my tongue deeper, clutching her roughly to my chest.
I thought I was hard before, like a teenager with my dick digging into her ass. But this? It’s like I’ve been pumped with steel, and I need to get closer. I slide on top of her, and her legs part for me. Invite me in. Her hips jerk upward as my name falls from her lips. “Sam,” she moans. “Oh, God, Sam.”
I devour the words, wanting to preserve them, knowing I’ll relive them for days to come. Her hands are on my back, kneading the tension in my muscles. I grind into her, rubbing my length where it counts, nothing but thin fabric between us. And I get harder. There’s no rain, no cold. There is only her. The tent fogs with our heavy breaths.
“Nina,” I murmur, needing to hear her name. “Nina,” I say again, as I taste the length of her neck and take her ear between my teeth. “You don’t know…” I tug her ear harder. “You have no idea…” She rocks her hips up to mine. The movement causes my dick to slide lower, and it comes to rest at her center. We both still, ragged breaths drawing us closer. She sucks her lip into her mouth, and something in her eyes shifts. Still heated, still hungry, but brimming with trust. I should be able to do the same. Trust her. Show her all of me the way she’s opened herself up. But I can’t. Not yet. Not when I only have half a heart.
The breaking gets that much worse.
With my dick hovering at her clothed opening, she says, “Sam.” It sounds desperate. Needy. I lean forward to kiss the mole on her cheek, the place I’ve been dying to lick. As I taste her skin, I nudge my hips forward an inch, and we both moan. Holy shit. With two bits of fabric between me and the heaven that is Nina, I press in farther, only as far as these confines will allow, and I almost come.