Everything Between Us (32 page)

“Figuring something out,” I say, kissing his chest, trailing my tongue down his stomach. His taste is slightly salty and his muscles tremble as I sink to the floor in front of him. Finally, I’m on my knees, and I pull his pants lower, until he springs free. I take hold of him, reminding myself that my heart is beating this fast for a good reason. Because I want him to like what I’m doing, because I’m crazy about this man and I want him to be crazy for me. I lick the underside of his shaft, and it jerks in my hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say, my lips moving against him. “So will you tell me?”

“You don’t have to do this, Stella,” he says breathlessly.

“But I want to.” I rise a little higher and circle my tongue over the head, over this little bead of moisture at the tip, salty and smooth. I slide my lips over it, and Daniel draws in a sharp breath. His fingers tangle in my hair and his hips move forward. I guess that means I’m doing all right. I open my mouth wide, taking in as much of him as I can. Daniel curses and his fingers spasm against my scalp. I let his movements lead me, the minute thrusts of his hips, the clutch of his fingers, the mumbled encouragement that mostly consists of
yes like that more like that harder like that oh God like that.

My jaw is aching, but it’s a good kind of hurt. This is like having a tiger on a leash, scary and thrilling. When I hear a pounding noise, I glance up to see the side of Daniel’s fist collide with the wall. His eyes are squeezed shut. I move up and down, exploring his thighs with my free hand, finally getting brave and gently stroking his balls, hot and smooth between his legs. My fingers slip along their center, but when I reach the firm patch of skin behind them, he says, “Fuuuuck, Stella, stop now. Stop stop stop—” He pulls at my hair and my mouth slides off his shaft. He yanks me up roughly, trapping me against the wall. “You’re going to make me come,” he says between breaths.

“That was kind of the idea,” I say. “Was I doing okay?”

He lets out a shaky laugh and leans his forehead on mine. “Too well,” he mutters, then his tongue is in my mouth, his hands are up my skirt again, his rigid length is pressed between us. I move my hands down to his ass, bare under my palms and diamond hard. “I want to be inside you,” he says between kisses. “I have to go get—”

“I have some. In my jacket.”

“You do?”

I smile, because this is something I never could have done a few months ago. Fierce pride and joy swells inside me. “I bought some.” I slide my hands up his chest to his neck. “You did promise that if I came here, you’d make me scream your name.”

“So I did,” he says, a glint of danger in his eyes. He turns away and scoops my jacket from the floor, then rifles through the pockets until he pulls out the box. A moment later, he’s sliding on a condom. There’s something so sexy about this—I’m still wearing my heels, along with half my clothes, and his pants are around his thighs, but we can’t wait. He rucks up my skirt and looks into my eyes. “Spread your legs a little.”

When I do, his fingers are there instantly, slicking through the liquid desire that’s been building inside me. We both moan as he touches me. He takes himself in hand and slides between my legs without penetrating, and I squirm, nerves and need all at once. His fingers close around my thigh, and he lifts it to his hip. He bends his knees to give himself the angle, and then I feel the tip of him against me. The sound that comes out of my mouth as he thrusts himself upward is half-squeal, half-whimper. My eyes clamp shut. Unlike last time, he enters me with one abrupt movement, grasping my leg as he pushes himself all the way inside. The pressure is so intense, and my standing leg trembles as Daniel begins to move his hips. “Lean back a little, Stella. That’s it.”

As soon as I do it, he grinds against me with each thrust, and it’s like nothing I’ve felt before, tingling ribbons of pleasure entwined with pain. His hand slides to my ass, supporting my leg with his arm. I open my eyes to see his face inches from mine, his blue eyes on me, his jaw clenched as he rocks his hips up. Every time he invades me, it drives the breath from my lungs. My shoulder blades slide along the wall as he makes me rise onto my tiptoes with the powerful flex of his hips. And suddenly it’s too much. I can’t hold myself up for another second. “Daniel,” I say, my voice breaking.

His fingers slide along my cheek, and he pulls out of me. An instant later, he’s shed his pants and is standing naked before me, his shaft glistening between us. “Come here,” he says. “Arms around my neck.”

I do it, and he grasps my thighs and lifts me off the ground, my legs around his waist. I bow over him and kiss him as he carries me to his bed. The whole apartment appears to be one large room, with a kitchen and dining area on one side and a bed on the other, with an easel and canvas at the very back. Daniel backs up to his bed and lets himself fall backwards with me on top of him. His hands slide up my spine and he unfastens my bra, then tosses it away. I pant as he takes one of my breasts in his mouth, using his teeth and tongue until I’m saying incoherent things against his sheets. While he drives me crazy, he unzips my skirt and works it over my hips. I kick it off my feet, along with my shoes. My hair falls around us as he raises his head to kiss me again and pushes my thighs down until I feel his shaft nudging my core.

“I want you to come while I’m inside of you,” he says into my ear. “I want to feel it.” He pivots his hips up and the tip of him enters me. I tense up a little, still a bit sore from our intense against-the-wall encounter, but still turned on, too. “Can you relax for me?” he asks.

I look down at him. My Daniel, not Dan or Danny or Danielle. I can do anything for him. I take a deep breath. He smiles as he feels my belly expand against his, and he slowly pushes in while I slide down his length. My head drops to his shoulder as I savor that intense fullness, and he cradles me, his fingers in my hair. “I love you so fucking much,” he whispers. His other hand finds mine, and our fingers twine together. “Move your hips until you find a position that feels really good. Show me how you need it to be.”

Biting my lip, I wiggle downward, using my knees for leverage, then flatten my toes against the sheets and arch my lower back.
Oh
. That is …
good
. I push myself onto him, feeling him all the way to my core. A warm tendril of pleasure winds through me, and Daniel’s hands grow firm on my backside. “That’s it,” he says softly.

I move a little, keeping that angle and sliding up and down the rigid heat of him as his hot breath skates along my cheek. Soon, he’s moving with me, so that we collide in the middle, short, devastatingly delicious thrusts that hit me in just the right place every time. The craving spirals inside me, making my thighs tense, my stomach tight, my fingers claw at his back, my teeth clamp onto his shoulder. He shoves himself into me, losing his rhythm. “Fuck yes,” he says with a groan.

A ragged sound comes from my throat as everything accelerates. I barely know what I’m doing, only that it’s exactly what I need to do. My breaths saw from my lungs as my whole body focuses on one thing, one feeling … I rock downward and grind as I sense it coming, trying to catch it before it can escape, this wild need overtaking me.

“Say it,” he whispers in my ear as I start to come.

And so I do, the only word I know right now. His name, over and over, in time with the spasms of my body, the flood of ecstasy dragging me away from the shore, pulling me under.

Like I weigh nothing, Daniel flips me over, his jaw rigid. “God, Stella,” he says from between clenched teeth. I’m so slick and so boneless that he’s deep inside in a raw second, his hips jerking. My head spins as I wrap my legs around him and hold on tight while he drives himself into a frenzy. And just as I wonder if I can take it much longer, he grabs my hair and tilts my head up, claiming my mouth as he throbs inside me. I keep my eyes open, loving what I’ve done to him, feeling invincible as his body lets go and he sinks onto me, crushing me with his weight.

Only a few months ago, I couldn’t have done this. Not like this, not this wild, heart-pounding collision. Still panting, I kiss Daniel’s sweaty brow. We breathe together for a while, gradually slowing down. He slides out of me and goes to clean himself up, but he returns quickly to the bed and pulls me against him. “I wanted to do this last time,” he says quietly. “I wanted to hold you all night.”

“You could have. I wanted you to. But I didn’t think I could ask it of you.”

“I felt the same way.” He smoothes my hair away from my face. “Can you stay?”

“It’s not like I had to get Mom’s permission. I’m an adult,” I say, unable to hide the defensiveness in my tone.

He chuckles. “If you weren’t, I’d be in big trouble.” He bumps his nose against mine, this gentle, joking connection that I love. “I mean that I won’t assume that you want to stay, Stella. But I’d love it if you did.”

“Oh.” My cheeks are warm. “Okay, then. I’d love that, too.”

I jolt awake, my heart racing. In the darkness, I hear a soft noise, and then I recognize it—Daniel, breathing. Right next to me. I’m in his apartment. His solid warmth is only inches away, and his arm is slung over my waist.

“You okay?” he murmurs sleepily. His fingers stroke my ribs.

“Yeah,” I whisper. A few months ago, I’d be panicking. The feelings are there, but I know them for what they are now, and I can control them. I take a deep breath and focus on the heaviness of Daniel’s arm on my body.

Today is the first of April.

I’m supposed to go out to lunch with my mom. She’s expecting me to tell her I’m ready, that I’m going back to Wellesley. And I could go back now. I could reclaim my life there. Yes, I might have a relapse—Heather said it was possible—but I’d know what to do, and I’d know how to get back on track. I could go and graduate in two years, and I’d have a bachelor’s degree …

And then what? I suppose I could go to law school like my sister. I’m smart enough to make it. My parents would be thrilled if I found a nice lawyer to marry, too. I’m capable of doing it all, and that’s what my mom and dad want. It’s what they expect. It’s the way to make them proud of me, happy with me.
It’s what would keep them from cutting me off.

I reach over and run my fingers through Daniel’s blond hair. I think Mom knew I was going out to see him as soon as she saw my outfit. She didn’t try to stop me, though, because she thinks she has control over me. She still thinks I’m weak.

I turn my head. Early dawn light is leaking through the tall windows along the wall that overlooks the street. Until the fall, I did everything my parents wanted me to do. I followed in my sister’s footsteps, I got into the right school, and I got good grades. I never assumed it could be different, and I tried to want all those things because I knew it would make my life easier. Maybe that’s what wound me so tight in the first place, all that pretending, all those years spent trying to fool myself and everyone else. The panic attacks and agoraphobia knocked me on my ass and made me think all those things were out of my reach forever.

Now I’m standing on my feet again. A little shaky, but stronger for what I’ve been through.

It’s time for me to decide my future for myself.

I watch the orange glow of the sun brighten the tops of the buildings across the street. Daniel’s easel is in the corner, and there’s a canvas propped on it, something he’s been working on here instead of at his studio. As the light gets brighter, the image on the painting takes shape, and my breath stills as I recognize it. He’s used newspaper or book pages like he does in some of his other paintings. Though I’m too far away to read the words, I recognize the image he’s created.

It’s my porch, my glass world, the reverse snow globe in which I was trapped, the place that kept the whole world out. Daniel’s sculpted it with those pages, folded and cut them so they form the columns of the room. I sit up. I didn’t notice this last night, because I was so wrapped up in Daniel that I had no room in my head for anything else. I wince as I swing my legs over the side of his bed, sore after the hours we spent tangled around each other. I don’t regret it at all. Every time I pushed him to lose control, it made me dizzy—with happiness.

I stand up, letting the sheet fall from my naked body. With silent steps, I approach the painting. The more I look at it, the more it seems like a cage, lines of text forming bars. But at the right edge of the painting, the thing starts to fall apart. That portion of the painting isn’t complete—some parts of the canvas are still white, sketch lines over the empty space, mapping the things to come.

As I stare at the image Daniel’s created, the glass cage and its disintegration, I wonder which is the braver choice—going back to face Wellesley and a future my parents set for me … or breaking free completely and finding my own path?

My eyes burning, I stare at the painting like it’s going to tell me the answer. In the dim morning light, the pages just seem like shadows and shapes, and I lean in to read what they say.

“You weren’t supposed to see it yet,” Daniel says from the bed.