Everything Between Us (13 page)

Not that I have to worry about that now, though. Mom called today, and she’s not coming back until Wednesday. She wanted to make sure I told Willa to pick up her dry cleaning on Tuesday, because she wants to wear a particular dress on Friday and needs her tailor to take in the waist. She didn’t even ask me about the snowstorm. She’s probably not even aware it happened. She babbled about how much fun she’s having and how much she needed the break, not even realizing how it sounded to me. She even commented on how much she’s looking forward to the gallery show opening, and I could tell from the purr in her voice that she was thinking of Daniel.

My cage is getting smaller by the moment, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe. Gasping, I finish off my shower and towel myself dry, then change into a t-shirt and yoga pants. Hollowed out, I trudge down the hall. I’m going to spend the night in the abandoned nest, because it still smells like him and I’m not ready to let him go yet.

The phone has been ringing on and off, but I don’t recognize the number, so I haven’t picked up. It starts ringing again as I reach the family room, and I ignore it until it falls silent. There’s only one person in the world I’d care to speak to, and he’s got more important things on his mind.

A distant banging sound sets my heart pounding. It’s coming from the side entrance. The plow guy, maybe, wanting to be paid? Or a serial killer who’s courteous enough to knock? I curl in on myself, sinking into my nest and pulling a blanket over my body. “Go away,” I whisper. “I’m not here.”

The banging stops. I relax a little. Until I hear footsteps in the hall and remember the door was
unlocked
. I stay very still, but my heart is slamming against my ribs, and the panic is starting to unfurl inside me. I’m going to—

“Stella?” he calls softly.

I sit up quickly. Daniel’s standing a few feet from the nest. “Hi,” I say, but it comes out as little more than a squeak.

He grimaces. “I scared you. I didn’t want to do that again, so I called a bunch of times. And I knocked. You—you didn’t answer.”

“I thought you might be a serial killer.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to reach you.”

“You came to get your stuff?” I should have thought of that. He probably needed it to finish his paintings or something.

“Yeah, but … I brought you a few things.” He holds out his hand.

I take it, needing that strong, stable grip to steady me. “You didn’t have to.”

“I was worried,” he says, guiding me out of the nest and leading me down the hall. We enter the kitchen, where he’s set a few grocery bags on the counter. Through the transparent plastic, I see …

“You brought me marshmallows?”

His mouth twists. “You like them.” His grip on my hand tightens. “I’m sorry for this morning.”

I stare at his face, trying to translate. I don’t trust myself to interpret him correctly, and I
so
don’t want to mess up again. “It’s fine. I’m sorry, too. I was being stupid.”

He moves a little closer, using our joined hands to draw me near. “You wanted something, and you asked for it.”

My cheeks burn. “I know, but … I should have known better …” He’s too close, and it’s starting to hurt, knowing he isn’t attracted to me like that.

“I’ll do it,” he says quietly. “If you still want me to.”

“Y-you will?” My voice breaks with my surprise.

He runs a fingertip down the side of my face, his touch cool on my flushed skin. “Yeah. We have to set some rules, though.”

“Okay.” I wish I didn’t sound so raspy, but my throat is tight with nerves.

“This has to be what you want, and you have to promise to stop it if you change your mind. I can’t do this with you if you can’t make that promise. You have to speak up—I’m not psychic.”

Thank God. “I will.” I can’t believe this is happening. “Are you really serious? This morning you seemed—”

“You caught me by surprise,” he says quickly. “But I had some time to think about it.” His smile is tiny, but no less devastating for it. “You made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

If my dad knew that his thousand bucks was going to pay for my deflowering, he’d probably have a heart attack. “Good. That’s what it was supposed to be.”

Daniel’s fingers slide along the side of my neck, his blue eyes dark with something I don’t understand.

“Um. Are you hungry? Do you want to … eat?” I ask. It’s just after six. And I seem to want to feed him when I don’t know what else to do or say.

His eyes narrow appraisingly. “I could go for some roasted marshmallows.”

Now, that I can do. “Coming up,” I say, trying to sound casual, which is hard considering the only thing on my mind is the fact that I’m going to have sex. With Daniel. Tonight.

He puts away a few groceries and grabs the bag of marshmallows while I gather the skewers, and we head back to our nest. I’m so relieved I burned all those sad drawings of him—he’d probably change his mind if he saw the results of my crazy obsession. We assemble our marshmallows and hold our skewers over the flames. It’s just like last night, except quieter. There’s more between us at the moment, but neither of us is saying it aloud. He sits closer to me, and that proximity does funny things to me, making me squirmy and shaky.

On our third round of roasting, my marshmallow catches fire, and I squeal as I pull it from the flames and blow frantically on it. Daniel laughs and takes the skewer from my hand. “You’re about to poke your eye out,” he says. “I’ll share.”

He slides one of his own perfectly melty marshmallows off his skewer and holds it in front of me. I reach out to take it, but he shakes his head. “I think you need to get used to me giving you things,” he says. “Open up.”

My eyes close as I part my lips, because meeting his gaze is too intense, and I can’t bear it right now. The sticky sweetness is warm in my mouth, and I can’t help but smile as I accept it. I’ve just swallowed when I feel his breath on my face, and then his lips are on mine. His tongue is in my mouth, tasting me, and I push right back. The sugary tang is incredible, and I whimper as he moves closer, demanding more. With a clatter, our skewers hit the hearth. His hands are on my waist a moment later, pulling me into his lap. I do exactly what he wants, both because I trust him and because I’m desperate to please him. I end up straddling him, the fire warm at my back. He grasps my hips. “Wrap your legs around me,” he says in my ear. As soon as I do, he whispers, “Do you feel that?”

His erection is pressed to the center of me, only our clothes between us. I nod as he kisses me again. His hands are on my ass, guiding the movement of my hips as his tongue thrusts into my mouth. I … have never felt anything like this before. I lock my arms around his neck and let him move me. He pulls back from my mouth and trails kisses along my jaw and down my throat. He nips at my collarbone, and my toes curl as heat rolls along my spine and pools right at the part of me that’s currently grinding against him. “You’re beautiful, Stella,” he says against my skin.

“Um,” I gasp. “Thanks.”

“No.” He leans back and takes my face in his hands. “Say yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. You are beautiful. And the more beautiful you feel, the more you’re going to enjoy this.”

“Doesn’t it matter more that
you
think I’m—”

He guides my hips in a slow rotation, making my eyes flutter shut. He’s so hard, and my soft flesh is slick and yielding. “I’ll tell you whenever you need to hear it. But I’m going to show you, too. You’re so beautiful.”

He lets go of my hips and slowly lifts my shirt. I raise my arms, biting my lip as he strips it off me. I’m not wearing a bra. When I hear my shirt land somewhere nearby, I open my eyes to see him staring at my chest. “
Beautiful
.” He was right—he doesn’t need to tell me now, because the look in his eyes is enough. It makes me shiver. I’ve never felt desired like this—he is
really
good at this act. His fingers spread across my shoulder blades as he tilts me back, his nose sliding down the center of my chest, his breath hot. When his tongue finds its way to my nipple, my thighs tense around his hips automatically. It pulls everything inside of me tight tight tight, and I arch into him, offering him whatever he wants.

He raises his head and pulls me against him. “Too close to the fire,” he says, then kisses me fiercely, my fingers scraping his rough jaw as it moves.

He lifts me and gets to his feet, and by silent agreement, we step into our nest, because it’s a place we own together, and it just makes sense. I’m glad I didn’t destroy it today. Daniel puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close as we stand wobbly among the cushions and duvets. His fingers dip into my pants, sliding them down my hips. I tense, and he senses it. He tips my chin up. “Do you trust me?”

I nod.

“I want you naked right now.”

“But—” He’s still wearing all his clothes.

He sees my gaze focus on his shirt. “I’m going to keep my clothes on for a little while. I’d rather focus on you. Is that okay?”

“Because you want to?” I don’t know why it’s important, but I want him to enjoy this, too. I don’t want it to only be about what I feel. I think that would ruin it for me.

Slowly, he takes my hand and guides it over his chest, along the hard ridges of his abs, down to the rigid bulge in his jeans. I’ve never touched a guy there, and my first instinct is to pull my hand away because it’s so intimidating. But Daniel’s hand is warm, and so is his gaze when I look up at him. “Because I want to,” he says, pressing my palm, letting me feel him. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath.

I raise my chin and taste his lips, and he responds with passion, turning me boneless as his shaft jerks at my touch. I squeeze it, wanting to feel that again, but he moves my hand from him quickly. “Did I hurt you?” I ask. God, I’m so clumsy.

He shakes his head. “The opposite.” He drops to his knees quickly and pulls my pants down my thighs before I know what’s happening. He hooks his fingers over my panties and draws them down, too. His touch tickles my ankles as he lifts one of my feet, then the other, tugging my clothes all the way off. He tosses them out of the nest. I’m completely naked. I’ve never been completely naked with a guy. It’s the most vulnerable feeling ever, and suddenly I feel like crying. It wells up in me, and to my horror, I start to feel the swirling, poisonous tendrils of panic in my chest.

“Daniel?” I say in a choked voice, not knowing how to explain what’s going on inside of me. I’m scared and I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it.

He looks up at me, his hands spanning my waist. “Hey,” he says, planting a soft kiss on my hipbone. “It’s okay.” He pulls me down, and I sink to my knees. He wraps his arms around me, tucking my head against his neck. “Shh. You’re fine. We don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do anything.”

“No,” I say. “No. I’m just … I don’t know.” I cling to him, thinking only
please don’t panic please don’t panic.
I can’t think of anything worse than having an anxiety attack right in front of him, naked and pathetic.

His fingers burrow into my hair, and he kisses my forehead. “Stella, you don’t have to know, and you don’t have to explain. You just have to share it with me. That’s all, and then we can figure it out together.”

My throat tightens as he caresses my cheeks, his expression so full of tenderness that it makes me ache. “I felt like it was going to happen. That I was going to panic.”

He freezes. “Why?”

I shake my head, wishing I knew. “My heart was beating really fast, and I felt like it was going to get out of control.”

He tilts his head. “Was it because you were nervous—or excited?”

I have to think about that. Was I about to panic, or was I just nervous about being naked with a guy for the very first time? “I-I don’t know. I guess it could have been one of those.”

He brushes his nose against mine. “Sex will make you feel out of control. When it’s good, it’s about losing control, and that’s safe and okay when you’re with the right person. So you have to ask yourself—am I the right person?” His fingers skim over my lips and trail down my throat as he waits for my response.

I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I can’t imagine wanting to, especially not right now. “I think so.”

He traces my collarbone before his warm hand grasps my shoulder. “I’ll make it safe, Stella,” he says softly.

For some reason, when he says it, I believe it. “Okay.”

“We’re going to go slow,” he says. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes.”

His mouth on mine is so reassuring, a gentle brush of his lips, the warm press of his fully clothed body against my nakedness. I know it’s an act, that he’s earning his money now, but I also know he doesn’t want to hurt me, that he does care, even if it’s only in a teacherly sort of way. Still, it
feels
loving, and it’s exactly what I need. My tense muscles gradually go liquid as he deepens our kiss and his hands roam over me, teasing, never landing in any one place for long, just enough to make me want more.

I have no idea how long we spend there, moving in super slow motion, but it steals that panic and makes things feel more controllable again. My own hands begin to explore the firm contours of his chest and back, the powerful flex of his muscles beneath cloth and flesh. He never lifts his mouth from mine, and I let my real feelings for him speak silently, putting it into the slide of my tongue along his, in the careful sweep of my fingers through his hair. It’s pure gratitude and want and wish, pure fantasy, but for the moment, I’m going to pretend it’s real, and he’s here for
me
, not for money.

His fingertips trail up my thigh and brush the center of me. As nervous as I am, I don’t flinch away as he begins to stroke me—and after a minute, I’ve forgotten to feel anything but need. My whole body is melting and spiraling to the breaking point at the same time. I don’t know whether I’m going to puddle on the floor or shatter. His fingers move along the tender seam between my legs, and Daniel finally nibbles my lower lip and lifts his head. With one of his arms locked around me, he makes sure I’m looking up at him … and then he slides his finger inside me.