Page 56 of Catch and Cradle

I tilt my chin up and bring my lips to hers again. This kiss is softer, slower, but just as overpowering. There’s an ache between my legs that won’t let up. The need flares through my whole body every time I feel the soft curves of her chest brush mine.

I rest one of my hands on her hip, squeezing as we start to pick up the pace again. There are so many places I want to touch her. I hook one of my fingers under the band of her shorts, and she lets out a muffled cry against my lips.

“Fuck,” she hisses. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think,” I pant, “I do, if it’s anything like what you do to me.”

“I just can’t stop kissing you.”

She pulls me into her again, and this time our kiss is bordering on furious. I need her so bad. Her mouth isn’t enough. I want all of her.

“Becca, you’re going to have to decide if we’re going upstairs or if I’m pushing you up against the wall of this house.” I feel my neck flush as I say it. I can’t believe I’m being this bold. “If you want me to stay, that is.”

Her eyes are hooded and hazy. She still has one of her hands tangled in my hair.

“You want to come inside?”

“Yeah.” I swallow. “I do, if that’s what you want.”

“I want that.” She nods like she’s confirming it with herself. “I want you, Hope.”

We break apart, and she reaches for my hand before pulling the front door open. I follow her into the dark entryway, her fingers intertwined with mine.

13

Becca

Hope is in my room. I stand in the doorway, frozen as I watch her walk over to the window just like I imagined that night she first came to meet me outside.

“That’s a beautiful quilt,” she says, glancing over at my bed while she toys with the edge of the curtains.

“Oh. Thanks. My grandma made it.”

I don’t know why I’m talking about my grandma. I don’t know why I’m talking at all. I should be kissing her. I just want to keep kissing her. Kissing her is the only thing stopping me from having a complete emotional crisis about what we’re doing.

Kissing her blocks everything else out. I’ve never felt that kind of freedom. I’ve never really, truly understood the words ‘live in the moment’ until I first had my lips on hers.

“It’s, um, funny you said that,” I stammer as I step into the room.

I pull the door shut behind me even though Bailey and Rachelle are still out and probably will be all night. The wood muffles the buzzing sound of the outdated fridge in our kitchen.

“Oh yeah?” she glances over her shoulder at me. “What’s funny?”

I trail my fingers along the edge of my dresser as I take a few steps closer.

“I’ve...I’ve thought about bringing you up here. I guess this is kind of creepy, but I’ve thought about what you might say, what you’d think of my room...” I glance down at the floor as an embarrassed chuckle climbs up my throat. “I thought about you complimenting that quilt.”

She chuckles too. “It is a great quilt. I love all the colours.”

The fabric scraps are all mix-matched shades of blue, green, and yellow. I cross over to my bed and bend down to smooth a few wrinkles out.

“Me too.”

My breath catches when I feel Hope approach behind me. I straighten up when her footsteps stop. She’s so close I can feel her breath on the back of my neck.

I shiver at the brush of her fingertips on my neck when she sweeps my hair to the side. She tugs on the neck of my unbuttoned cardigan, guiding it down over one of my shoulders. Her lips land there next, moving over the strap of my tank top and up my neck.

My eyes close. I lean my head to the side to give her better access. I can feel her kisses everywhere. When she lets her teeth scrape the skin just below my jaw, I can’t hold back my moan.