Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,87
from underneath him.
Laughing, he straddles me, snatches hold of my wrists, and pins my arms above my head. “You are so going down … Wait, what’s in your hand?” His gaze shifts to me, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he gulps. “Where did you find that?”
“On your fridge,” I whisper, struggling to get oxygen into my lungs. Breathe. Just breathe. “Is it true …? Task number three?”
His throat muscles move as he swallows hard. “It is, but I don’t want you to panic. That’s just where I am, but I won’t say it aloud. I know that you’re not there yet, so we can wait for now. I don’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel uncomfortable while you’re living with me. You’ve already spent way too much of your life being uncomfortable in your own house. I don’t want to ever make you feel that way.”
Silence ticks by, filled with our heavy breathing.
“Princess, please, say something,” he pleads, still holding my wrists.
“You make me feel safe,” I sputter, unsure what else to say other than the truth. “All the time. You’re the only one who ever has.”
“Good.” He relaxes, skimming a finger along the inside of my wrist right along my thrashing pulse. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To make sure you feel—are safe. Ever since the first time I had you come home with me and spend the night.”
“Well, you completely and one hundred percent succeeded.” I aim for a light tone yet sound uncontrollably breathless.
“Now that I got you out of that house, I did.” Then he leans in to kiss me.
“Beck,” I whisper right before his lips touch mine.
He pauses, his eyelids lifting open. “Yeah?”
“C-can I hear you say it?” I whisper. “I’ve never heard anyone say it to me without a manipulative meaning behind it.”
He nods, swallowing hard. “Willow, I love you.”
He says it so easily, without any effort, without wanting anything in return.
I’ve often wondered what it would be like to hear the word love and not cringe. When I was younger, it used to happen, but only because I was so naive. Maybe I’m being naive still, but I really don’t think so. And I don’t cringe. I don’t run. I don’t think of lists and jobs and classes. I think of Beck and everything he’s done for me: when he saved me from sleeping in the car, when he comforted me during the rougher days, when he didn’t judge me for the bad choices I made, when he made me laugh, even when he made me almost pee my pants.
Then I hold my breath and let every single damn syllable sink into my heart.
“I love you, too,” I whisper. “I think I have for a while.”
His eyes widen, but that look only lasts for a heartbeat. Then his lips are on mine. His hands soon find my body, slipping underneath my shirt. His fingers brush my nipples, and my back bows up, my knees pressing against his hips. He repeats the movement again, whispering that he can stop if I need him to. I don’t want him to stop, though.
Ever.
And that’s exactly what I tell him.
He peels off my shirt, and I tug down his pajama bottoms and boxers. Then he lays me back down on the bed and slips his fingers inside me as his tongue parts my lips. He feels me until I can’t breathe. Kisses me until I can’t think straight. Loves me until everything seems right and nothing seems wrong.
I never want him to let me go.
His thoughts seem to match mine as he only moves away to put on a condom. Then he places his body over mine, kissing me slowly, as if memorizing every single brush of our lips.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, looking into my eyes.
I nod with a hint of nerves surfacing. But I shove the feeling down and wrap my legs around his waist, really wanting to do this.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too,” he promises.
Then he kisses me as he slips inside, and I hold on to him, never wanting to let go.
It might not be perfection, but I think it’s definitely close.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Willow
The next few days move by slowly, but in the best way possible. Beck and I spend a lot of time messing around, laughing, and burning dinner because I apparently suck at cooking food that doesn’t come processed and in a box. Beck finds my sucky cooking