Page 93 of When Sky Breaks
She shifts, and with all our walls sufficiently crumbled, she meets my mouth with hers.
I grip her head with my palm and keep her in place as I crush her to me. Different from the last kiss, we cling to each other, desperate for reassurance, erasing every inch between us because any separation is as painful as losing your soul. She makes me believe I might look in the mirror again and not get sickened by who stares back at me. I can strive to be whole because she believes I already am.
Hot and supple lips open, and I dive my tongue in to slide along hers. Heat—something we never lacked—rises to devour us, crashing like dangerous waves of the sea.
A small moan reverberates from her chest, and she nips my bottom lip with her teeth.
Electricity crackles like lightning across my sensitive skin. My eyes roll into the back of my head as blood rushes south.
Fuck.
She keeps this up, and my dick will have trouble staying in my pants.
“Make that sound again,” I rasp against her lips. “It’s been so fucking long, I need to hear it.”
The moan she utters strikes deep and my kisses grow frantic. I grip her jaw, stealing all her breaths.
We grasp at each other wherever we can, nails digging into tender flesh. Flashes of pleasure spark in our veins, reminding us we’re still alive and burning for each other. It’s only by sheer luck I have any functioning brain cells left as she licks inside my mouth, making my cock strain so hard against my jeans it hurts.
As much as I want to drag her under me and sink into her hot, slick flesh, we need to go slow. This is new—tenuous at best. I can’t shatter the trust we’ve been building over the last several weeks.
“Shortcake.” I pull back reluctantly and kiss her flushed cheeks, panting.
“I know. We should take this slow.” She leans her forehead on mine, her ragged breaths matching the ones straining from my chest. “It was always like this with us. Easy to get lost in each other.”
I nod and tuck her in close to my side, glad to be wearing jeans even if my dick isn’t as I adjust myself. “Rest. Because once you’re better, going slow will be the furthest thing from my mind.”
She relaxes and releases the tension in her shoulders, melting into my embrace.
We lie there for a few moments in silence, nothing but the sounds of our breathing in tandem. I breathe, she breathes. We’ve always been good at synchronicity.
I find my eyes drifting closed, the weight of my journey somewhat lifted. My muscles spasm, and I reach out for her hand, out of instinct, out of some fear she might not be there anymore, that this was all a dream, and I jumped instead of living.
She squeezes my hand in response, and I relax.
She didn’t bolt. She’s still here next to me.
Unburdening myself didn’t scare her away.
* * *
Taking care of Foster must have worn me out because the light is thin through the blinds of my room, casting shadows on the wall as I wake. It was only supposed to be a thirty-minute power nap, but it turned into a several-hour nap.
“Morning. Or evening, I guess I should say.” Sky’s nose is buried in my book as she sits against my headboard, biting her thumbnail.
“Are you past where I stopped?”
Her eyes twinkle. “Yes. It’s so good.”
I point a finger at her as I lean up on my elbow, my voice still hoarse from sleep and the emotional conversation from earlier. “Don’t tell me what happens to the cranky neighbor—what’s his name? Mr. Shaw. I’ve been trying to guess how he’s involved.”
She holds up the toilet paper bookmark, waving it in my direction. “I promise. But I guarantee you won’t guess it.”
I’m affronted as I flick away the makeshift bookmark. “How do you know I didn’t guess all the others? You have no faith in my abilities, do you?”
She grins and bites her lip, distracting me with the fact she still isn’t wearing anything other than my sweatshirt and little panties with stripes on them. Even the pink polish on her toes makes my brain fritz.
“Oh, I have faith in your abilities, August. Just not solving mysteries. Except for maybe one.”