The Forever of Ella and Micha - By Jessica Sorensen Page 0,90
hollow of my neck and I can hardly breathe. “I really do.”
He draws back slightly, his eyes penetrating mine. When his lips return to mine, it’s not just about lust or desire—it’s about making us whole.
Rising my hips upward to take my jeans and panties off, I accidentally bang my head on the roof. Laughing softly, he steers my mouth back to his forcefully as I fumble to undo the button of his jeans and then he wiggles them down. Seconds later he’s inside me and I hover forward to stop the horn from honking as I open my mouth, allowing his tongue to devour me. The windows fog up as he thrusts into me and I cling onto him like he’s what keeps me thriving. Because he is.
Chapter 20
Micha
I smile the entire drive home. Not just because she let me do her in the car, but also because so much has changed. She opened up to me and her eyes lost a little bit of the sadness in them.
When I pull the car up to the front of her house, however, my gut wrenches at the idea that all the progress could be taken away in a heartbeat if Dean or her dad decides to bring painful things up. I decide before I get out of the car, that if they do, I’ll hurt them.
Dean’s red Porsche is in the driveway, along with Ethan’s truck. As we walk toward the back door, holding hands, snow falling from the sky and crunching under our shoes, neither one of us speaks. When we reach the door, I pause before opening it.
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask. “Because we could take off right now, just you and I and go wherever you want.”
She stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek and then nods. “I think I have to.”
Reluctantly, I open the door and we walk head-on into the lion’s den. At the table, Ella’s dad, Lila, and Ethan are sitting quietly around bowls and plates full of corn, stuffing, chicken, peas. There are rolls and butter and much more than both of us are used to seeing. Keeping a hold of Ella’s hand I walk over to the table and we take a seat side-by-side.
“It took you a long time to get back,” Ethan mutters under his breath with an accusing laugh. “What, did you get stuck again or something?”
“Knock it off.” I take a roll as Ella grips my hand under the table with her eyes fixed on the tablecloth. Her dad looks awkward sitting across from us, cutting a piece of chicken into absurdly thin slices.
“Hello, Ella,” he says formally, without making eye contact. “How have you been?”
My muscles tense waiting for her response.
It takes her a second. “Good. Really, really good.”
I exhale and the heaviness and worry of the night alleviates for the moment. Dean enters with a box in his hand and a confused look on his face.
“Who drew on the bathroom floor?” He drops the box on the counter.
Ella raises her hand. “I did.”
“Okay.” His tone holds annoyance. “Well, next time close the damn door. You know how I feel about it being open.”
I grit my teeth, trying not to say anything as Ella raises her chin and looks at her father, who seems obsessed with the chicken. “Dad, I think the chicken is cut.”
“Oh.” He sets the fork down to the side of the plate and sighs. “I didn’t even realize I was cutting it.”
“Be nice,” Caroline hisses at Dean from behind us. “Or I swear to God you’re sleeping alone tonight.” She appears at the table with a plate of crackers and cheese. She’s wearing a red dress with a skeleton on the bottom and a cross around her neck. “Alright, who’s hungry?”
We all dig in like we’re starved animals and my mom and Thomas come waltzing in right on time. My mom has a green dress on that’s a little too short and Thomas has a polo shirt and cargo pants on. Ella’s dad stands up to give my mom a quick kiss on the cheek, and then they take a seat at the opposite end on fold-up chairs.
After everyone is seated, Caroline clinks her fork against her cup. “Okay, so my family has this tradition where we all go around and say one thing that we’re thankful for.”
“Baby, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Dean says, reaching for the gravy. “Not here, anyway.”