Along the sides of his thermal Henley that felt and smelled new. As if he’d bought it at the same time he’d bought his new boots. I pulled the shirt from his waistband so my hands could explore his skin, just as he was exploring mine.
It was so damn beautiful. Him. The moment. Me feeling more alive than I’d ever felt before. The emotions and the pure relief after years of doubt filled my eyes with tears, and before I could help it, they had trailed down my cheeks and over the side of my jaw to where they landed on him, the salty wetness jerking him away from me.
His eyes went wide. “You’re crying.”
I closed my eyes, feeling so damn stupid. “I know.” My voice was full of contempt reflected back at me.
His voice was gentle, concerned. “Why? Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head. “It’s…relief.”
He rubbed my chin with a finger, and I risked looking up at him, hoping I wouldn’t see disgust, and was overjoyed to just see tenderness.
“Relief…” he repeated my word with a frown. “I feel like I need to batter a whole host of men until they are bloody and bruised.”
“It wasn’t their fault.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me. As if it was their lack of skill that had made me stay cold and frozen. It hadn’t been them. Some of them had been quite skilled with their hands and their tongues. But it had just made me clam up, shut down, turn to stone.
I didn’t know why it was different with Cole. There was no logic or reason behind it, but it had happened, and it was wonderful. Beautiful. Addicting.
“Do it again,” I said quietly, not straying from his eyes.
He stared at me, jaw ticking, eyes wandering to my lips and back.
“Make me come alive,” I breathed out.
He groaned before complying. Touching lips to lips while our bodies, still fully clothed, bent and twisted together. Mouths and hands discovering each other. Discovering the new reactions in me that I never wanted to end.
Minutes…maybe days later, he groaned again and rested his forehead on my chest. I ran a hand through his dark hair. So similar in color to mine in many ways. Shades of color that blended: copper and bronze and onyx. My heart was full. Happy. When was the last time I was happy for myself and not for someone else?
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
He pulled away some, and I missed the weight of him on me. He propped his head up on his hand, but his legs were still twined with mine. I would take it. At least he wasn’t running for the hills.
“Ginny…” His eyebrows were drawn together, and I knew he was thinking. He had done the same thing many times over the last two days. It happened whenever he was trying to decide what to say. Eventually, he continued. “I think your name is perfect.”
A laugh escaped me. That was the last thing I expected him to say. He grinned back. “Laugh all you want. You are a witch. Maybe I need to write an entire screenplay about you.”
“I bet you say that to all the ladies you make out with,” I told him back, but the smile was still on my lips. I didn’t think I would stop smiling for days. If I felt like this after one make-out session, what would I feel like if we made love? Had sex. Done the deed. I wanted to know but didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin this moment with something that might not live up to the pure heaven I’d just experienced.
He was shaking his head. “No. Well. Maybe one.”
Jealousy raged through me. Another emotion I was unfamiliar with. I hadn’t cared when any of the guys I’d dated had moved on. I’d expected it. I’d wanted it because I’d just felt disappointed with myself and them and everything that had happened with us.
“The one you thought you loved?” I asked him.
He didn’t look away when we talked, and it was something I treasured. He stared into my eyes every time, so I knew he heard every word I uttered. He didn’t have his fingers on his phone or eyes turned to the television. He was focused completely on me.
“Yes. I thought I loved her,” he said.
It hurt to hear him say it, which didn’t make any sense, and yet it did. I was just letting the feelings wash over me because of their novelty. Because I