Breathe, Annie, Breathe
Page 19
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“It’s hotter than blue blazes outside,” he says.
I wipe sweat off my forehead. “That water is tempting.”
“Let’s jump in.” He grabs me and starts to pull me toward the water—and I pound on his chest and giggle like a seventh grader.
“Jere—no! If I get wet, I’ll have to run back in soggy clothes and I’ll get chafed—”
“Wouldn’t want that.”
“I’d finally get to take your brother up on his kind offer of Vaseline.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”
My hands switch from pounding on his chest to tentatively exploring it. He’s strong. I miss resting my head on a solid chest. I move my fingertips in tiny circles. His eyes flash. He takes my hands, weaving his fingers in mine. Leans forward. Steals a kiss.
He pulls back and searches my face—for what I don’t know, and once the shock wears off, I find myself up on tiptoes reaching to return the kiss.
My arms and legs turn against me. My knees sink and he has to grab me to hold me up. His tongue teases mine. I clutch the hair at the nape of his neck. Cup his cheeks with my hands, enjoying the way his stubble scratches my skin.
Our hands are everywhere. He pushes the CamelBak off my shoulders and unclips his water fanny pack thing, letting both drop to the ground. At first I try to push him away because my underarms are sweaty—hell, everywhere is sweaty, but he won’t let me go and then I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but his hand on my jaw and the other kneading my hip. His lips trail over my ear and neck, then hungrily find mine again. He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth and bites until I moan.
God, these kisses are hot, his mouth hard, then soft, then wanting. We lie down on the grass—it’s still slick with morning dew, and still kissing me, he presses his body to mine, rocking his hips in a rhythm until I’m seeing spots. It’s been so long. So long since I’ve felt this good, with a guy’s heavy comforting weight above me and my body on fire. I let out a sob.
Gasping for breath, he pulls himself to his knees and settles between my legs. “Annie.” He swallows. “You okay?”
“Don’t stop.”
I reach for his waist and we tug at our running clothes until they’re heaped beside us. His toned body is sculpted like a statue, and when I set my chin on his shoulder so he can kiss my neck, I discover another tattoo on his shoulder blade—it’s a black lightning bolt superimposed over a black circle.
And then his hand dips between my legs. I let my body relax, and he gives me what I didn’t know I needed so bad. I cry out and he quiets me with his mouth, kissing me until I feel sated all over, like after a Sunday afternoon nap. I don’t think a thing till I feel him pushing against me.
“We don’t have a condom!” I whisper loudly, and his eyes pop open and he rolls off. From the corner of my eye, I watch him wipe the sweat from his face and clench his eyes shut. Shit, what was I thinking? I’m not on the pill anymore. I don’t know this guy. I haven’t even told him my last name. He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t love him. He’s not Kyle.
Another sob, a different kind from before, builds in my throat.
I rip away from him and work to turn my clothes the right side out and jerk my panties and shorts back on. I untangle my sports bra, shove it over my head, and force my arms through the holes. Slap away the blades of grass stuck to my knees and elbows.
“Annie?”
Ignore him.
“Sorry, I got carried away. You’re just so pretty,” he says, grabbing his T-shirt up from the dirt and wiping his hands with it. “I never do it without a condom. Seriously, I’m sorry.”
So he does stuff like this often? I’ve only kissed one other boy my whole life. I yank my sports bra down over my chest and reach for my tank top.
Following my lead, he dresses quickly, even though he’s still raring to go, if you know what I mean.
“Please don’t tell my brother about this,” he says with a distressed look toward the trail. “I can’t mess things up this time. Please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t,” I snap, more at myself than at him. He looks taken aback, running his hands through his hair, swallowing.
I leave him behind, hurry back onto the trail, and resume my glacial pace. And of course, two minutes later, he overtakes me, darting through the tunnel of trees, leaving me in his dust, streaking toward the sun.
•••
At home, I rush for the bathroom.
I wipe sweat off my forehead. “That water is tempting.”
“Let’s jump in.” He grabs me and starts to pull me toward the water—and I pound on his chest and giggle like a seventh grader.
“Jere—no! If I get wet, I’ll have to run back in soggy clothes and I’ll get chafed—”
“Wouldn’t want that.”
“I’d finally get to take your brother up on his kind offer of Vaseline.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”
My hands switch from pounding on his chest to tentatively exploring it. He’s strong. I miss resting my head on a solid chest. I move my fingertips in tiny circles. His eyes flash. He takes my hands, weaving his fingers in mine. Leans forward. Steals a kiss.
He pulls back and searches my face—for what I don’t know, and once the shock wears off, I find myself up on tiptoes reaching to return the kiss.
My arms and legs turn against me. My knees sink and he has to grab me to hold me up. His tongue teases mine. I clutch the hair at the nape of his neck. Cup his cheeks with my hands, enjoying the way his stubble scratches my skin.
Our hands are everywhere. He pushes the CamelBak off my shoulders and unclips his water fanny pack thing, letting both drop to the ground. At first I try to push him away because my underarms are sweaty—hell, everywhere is sweaty, but he won’t let me go and then I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but his hand on my jaw and the other kneading my hip. His lips trail over my ear and neck, then hungrily find mine again. He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth and bites until I moan.
God, these kisses are hot, his mouth hard, then soft, then wanting. We lie down on the grass—it’s still slick with morning dew, and still kissing me, he presses his body to mine, rocking his hips in a rhythm until I’m seeing spots. It’s been so long. So long since I’ve felt this good, with a guy’s heavy comforting weight above me and my body on fire. I let out a sob.
Gasping for breath, he pulls himself to his knees and settles between my legs. “Annie.” He swallows. “You okay?”
“Don’t stop.”
I reach for his waist and we tug at our running clothes until they’re heaped beside us. His toned body is sculpted like a statue, and when I set my chin on his shoulder so he can kiss my neck, I discover another tattoo on his shoulder blade—it’s a black lightning bolt superimposed over a black circle.
And then his hand dips between my legs. I let my body relax, and he gives me what I didn’t know I needed so bad. I cry out and he quiets me with his mouth, kissing me until I feel sated all over, like after a Sunday afternoon nap. I don’t think a thing till I feel him pushing against me.
“We don’t have a condom!” I whisper loudly, and his eyes pop open and he rolls off. From the corner of my eye, I watch him wipe the sweat from his face and clench his eyes shut. Shit, what was I thinking? I’m not on the pill anymore. I don’t know this guy. I haven’t even told him my last name. He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t love him. He’s not Kyle.
Another sob, a different kind from before, builds in my throat.
I rip away from him and work to turn my clothes the right side out and jerk my panties and shorts back on. I untangle my sports bra, shove it over my head, and force my arms through the holes. Slap away the blades of grass stuck to my knees and elbows.
“Annie?”
Ignore him.
“Sorry, I got carried away. You’re just so pretty,” he says, grabbing his T-shirt up from the dirt and wiping his hands with it. “I never do it without a condom. Seriously, I’m sorry.”
So he does stuff like this often? I’ve only kissed one other boy my whole life. I yank my sports bra down over my chest and reach for my tank top.
Following my lead, he dresses quickly, even though he’s still raring to go, if you know what I mean.
“Please don’t tell my brother about this,” he says with a distressed look toward the trail. “I can’t mess things up this time. Please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t,” I snap, more at myself than at him. He looks taken aback, running his hands through his hair, swallowing.
I leave him behind, hurry back onto the trail, and resume my glacial pace. And of course, two minutes later, he overtakes me, darting through the tunnel of trees, leaving me in his dust, streaking toward the sun.
•••
At home, I rush for the bathroom.
