The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (104 page)

Her breath hitches in her throat when I begin to tug her shirt over her breasts, but when she lifts her arms, that
’
s all the permission I need. She helps me pull it over her head and her hair snakes its way through the collar before spilling all over my pillows. So as not to leave her exposed all on her own, I push myself up on my knees, reach behind my head, and grab a fistful of shirt before yanking it off. From my current vantage point, I can see the rapid rising and falling of her chest. The bra she
’
s got on is purple with yellow polkadots. Over the summer, I saw her in a bathing suit, but this is different. Today, her undergarments speak of untrodden ground. As I take her in with my eyes, I can
’
t help but marvel at how flawless she is
—
from the peak of her breasts to the valley of her belly
—
and I want to memorize every bit of her. When our eyes meet and her blush spreads from her cheeks all the way down her neck, I
’
m consumed with my desire to make her blush all over.

All. Over.

I lean back down and open my mouth around hers. The feel of her skin pressing against mine causes me to moan with pleasure, which I think she likes; I assume so based off of the way she grips my triceps and uses them as leverage to arch her back and press into me more aggressively. She
’
s never done that before, so I know it happened instinctively and not intentionally, but either way, it turns me on even more.

I feel like my heart is beating as fast as the wings of a hummingbird. I
’
m also certain that there are fireworks
exploding
in my stomach. I can
’
t catch my breath, but I don
’
t know that I want to. Grayson has never kissed me as passionately as he is right now and it feels
amazing
. He
’
s doing things with his tongue that I didn
’
t know he could do. And the feel of his hands
—
his hands! Big and warm, strong yet gentle
…
He
’
s it
’
s making it
impossible
to think.

Impossible!

I
’
m aware that we
’
ve just crossed a line we never have before, but it happened so naturally that it didn
’
t seem right to kill the moment in order to stop him. Besides, it feels so incredibly good to be under him right now
—
and his desperate want for me is obvious, in more ways than one, and I
’
ve never felt as beautiful or as desirable or as treasured as I do right now.

He pulls his mouth from mine and I mourn our severed connection, but only until he begins sucking and nibbling his way down my neck and between my barely-there-breasts. His attention makes me feel like I might just melt, my core heating me from the inside out. When he reaches behind me and his fingers find the clasps of my bra, I start to panic.

“
Sonny?
”
I barely manage.

A fraction of a second.

A fraction of a second
—
that
’
s how long it takes me to return to my right mind. Now, I
’
m feeling more nervous than excited. I
’
m not sure if I
’
m ready to go there
—
he just took my shirt off, and now he wants me completely topless?
No, no, no, no
—
too much, too fast.

His hand pauses before I come undone, but he doesn
’
t stop kissing me.
“
Trust me. It
’
s okay, just trust me. Let me show you how much I love you. You
’
re beautiful. Avery, you
’
re absolutely perfect.
”

I think his words are meant to keep me in this moment, but they do the opposite. I don
’
t know what he means by,
let me show you how much I love you
. I
know
how much he loves me. He shows me every day. I don
’
t need to get
naked
for him to express it anymore clearly.

At least, not in
this
stage of our relationship.

“
Sonny, can we just slow down, please?
”

“
Baby, just let me show you,
”
he whispers as his fingers go back to work.

Baby? Did he just call me baby? He never calls me that.

Suddenly, I
’
m feeling
more
than uncomfortable. It
’
s as if I
’
ve lost my Sonny. Whoever it is that
’
s just unhooked my bra with little to no effort, he
’
s not my Sonny.
“
Grayson, stop.
”

“
I can
’
t,
”
he whispers before aligning his mouth with mine.

I don
’
t like this. I don
’
t like this.
I don
’
t like this!

“
Stop!
”
It dawns on me, as I push him away, that I
’
ve
never
had to ask him to stop twice, let alone
three
times. Not ever. I
’
m trembling when I roll away from him, hugging my arm across my chest so as to keep my bra on. When I
’
m on my feet, I turn my back to him as I work to adjust myself. I
’
m crying as I reach for my shirt and tug it over my head. My thoughts are whizzing through my mind a million miles per hour and I can
’
t focus on anything, aside from the fact that
he wouldn
’
t stop
. I don
’
t realize how hard I
’
m shaking until I open my mouth to speak and the sound of my voice quivers with the rest of my body.
“
Why wouldn
’
t you stop?
”

My back is still to him because I
’
m too afraid to look at him. When he doesn
’
t speak, I turn around. He
’
s shifted so that he
’
s sitting up, his legs are draped over the edge of the bed and his feet are on the floor. His elbows are propped onto his knees and his head is being held up by his hands. Even hunched over, I can
’
t help but admire the sculpture that he is. For just a second, I mourn the lost opportunity to explore every dip and curve of his smooth, defined chest with my hands
—
with my mouth. His skin still wears summer
’
s kiss and his shoulders are spotted with freckles. I bite my lip as my eyes travel to the auburn hair that trails its way from his belly button down into
—
No.
His gorgeous body doesn
’
t distract me long, and as I shake away my lust, I realize that he hasn
’
t answered my question.

“
Grayson, why wouldn
’
t you stop?
”
I ask again. He doesn
’
t speak. Instead, his shakes his head, as if
that
’
s
an adequate answer.
“
Are you really not going to say anything?
”
When he shrugs, my heart sinks.
What is happening right now?
“
Grayson!
”
I cry.

“
I don
’
t know what to say,
”
he mumbles.

My jaw drops. I can
’
t believe this is happening. Am I dreaming?
Sweet Jesus in heaven, please let me be dreaming
…
“
What do you mean, you don
’
t know what to say? What just happened? Why didn
’
t you stop? Why aren
’
t you talking to me?
”

“
Because I don
’
t know what to say!
”
he replies, shooting his head up so that our gazes meet.

His words
crush me
. Now, I don
’
t know what to say either. I know only one thing for sure, I don
’
t want to be in this room with him a second longer than I have to be. I snatch up my jacket, not even bothering to put it on, before I grab my bag and my cello and hurry out the door.

Not once does he try and stop me.

Shit.

It
’
s after midnight. I should be sleeping. I have an exam in the morning. I have a recital tomorrow evening. I have an orchestra concert on Thursday. I should be sleeping. I still have the hardest part of my week ahead of me.
I should be sleeping
.

I should be sleeping but I
’
m not tired. I can
’
t even imagine closing my eyes right now. Instead, as I sit with my legs crossed in the middle of my bed, all I can do is replay what happened tonight in Sonny
’
s room. Over and over again, I see it in my head. I feel his hands on my body
—
his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. Over and over I try and figure out what I did wrong, how I managed to send him the wrong message
—
I try and figure out at what point he thought I was ready to be
naked
with him. No matter how many times I replay the scene, I can
’
t justify or explain his behavior. The truth is, it doesn
’
t matter what I might have done to encourage his advances, I told him to
stop
. I told him to stop and he wouldn
’
t!