More Than This

She lies down and moves my right arm so she’s laying in the crook, her on her side, me on my back, her head on my chest.

A comfortable silence fills the room.

I’m almost asleep when I feel her hands move, her breath blowing out as she sighs.

My hand is resting on my stomach and she moves hers so that our finger tips are touching, she pushes my hand up with hers, almost like were comparing hand sizes. We’re both looking down at our hands now. It’s a small touch, our skin only lightly grazing, but it feels so intimate, like we’re more than what we are. I know I want to be. I want to be more than this.

I bend my fingers so they’re entwined with hers and I feel something I haven’t felt before. I bring our hands to my face so I can see. She has a diamond ring and a wedding ring on her ring finger, and a larger wedding ring on her thumb, on her right hand.

“Your parent’s?” I ask quietly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it’s theirs. I know I probably shouldn’t be wearing them. Like, its disrespectful or something, but I guess it just makes me feel closer to them.”

“It’s not disrespectful at all, Kayla.” I whisper, kissing her hair. “If anything, it’s beautiful. Those rings are a symbol of their love, and so are you. I bet when they were putting those rings on their fingers they didn’t have a clue they’d have someone as special as you.”

She smiles a sad smile.

“Have I told you about how they met?”

I shake my head no.

“Mom was 21, Dad was 18. He worked part time delivering flowers. One day he delivered some to Mom, she signed for it but they weren’t for her. When she read the card and realized he had delivered them to the wrong address, she rang the company. Dad had to go back and re-deliver them to right the address, but not before getting her number. That night he rang her and they spent hours on the phone talking about anything and everything. Mom actually had a boyfriend at the time, apparently he was an asshole. He was working night shift, but she set her alarm so that as soon as he finished, she could call him and break up with him. Two weeks later, he was pretty much moved in with her. They fell in love instantly, Jake. It was like he went to the wrong address on purpose.

“Mom used to always tell the story when I was little. My friends parent’s would read them ‘The Little Mermaid’ and ‘Snow White’. Mine told me my very own fairytale. That’s what Mom called it, their story, she called it a fairytale. I believe it too. That instant, intense, love. Fate.” She sits up to look at me, tears brimming in her eyes as she tries to talk through the lump in her throat. “I believe in the happily ever after.”

She’s looking at me with so much emotion that I hope to hell that I’m reading her right, that the look she’s giving me is telling me everything I want to hear. That she believes in Fate. In Love. In us. Forever.

She stands up and walks towards closed curtains. This room never had windows before, it was just storage, Dad must have had it installed.

She opens the curtains and stifles a laugh.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, turning around to face me.

I’m trying to get my bearings in the room, which wall is facing where…

I get up to stand behind her and look out.

“Shit,” I say with a smile.

The window faces the window in my room. I look down at the roof of the first level, the garage is detached from the house, but not by much. I could easily climb down and jump the space of the two roofs and climb in the other window. “My dad totally did this on purpose.”

“Your dad is so my fave person over 35.”

Chapter 23

*Mikayla*

I turn from the window and he is right there. As in right there. My chest is touching his and when I look up he’s staring at me, eyes hooded, filled with lust.

“You know…” he says, his hand on my waist, moving us to my left slightly, “we never really talked about what happened the other morning.”

My eyes dart away from him, I can’t face him anymore.

He takes one step forward, pi

A squeak of a noise comes out.

He smiles.

“Kayla…” he whispers, his head falling to my shoulder, his lips slightly kissing the exposed skin, before his mouth opens and his tongue darts out just the slightest.

My skin breaks out in goosebumps and I shiver, but not from the cold.

His hands are on my waist again, his thumbs moving up and down on my stomach, under my top. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, biting my bottom lip to stop me from smashing my mouth against his.

When I open my eyes, he’s watching me.

He pushes further into me, his bottom half plastered into mine. I can feel how much he wants this, how much he wants me.

He’s kissing up my neck, to my jaw and around my mouth, but he stop himself from kissing me properly.

He groans out loud when his hands dip into my shorts, past my panties, gripping my bare ass.

“Fuck Kayla…” he moans out.

My legs lift and wrap around him, grinding on him with an effort to release the tension.

I start to kiss his neck too, around his ear, biting his lobe slightly, causing him to groan out loud again. I stay away from his mouth, just like he does with me. My kisses go down his jaw, to his collarbone, and I want more. I need more.

I reach for the hem of his shirt and he helps me lift it over his head. The whole time, his body is leaning and keeping me against the wall. Once his shirt is off, my hands are everywhere at once. I start at his back and move to the front, taking him in. His rock solid chest, muscles popping from his neck down to his arms. He definitely has an athletes body, not beef head muscles big, but perfectly toned and fit, his stomach muscles defined with every ridge of his abs. A smattering of curls that lead to the perfect V, going lower into his…

I start kissing his chest, gripping his back with my hands. My fingers so tight, my nails digging into his back, almost breaking skin. I kiss until I find his nipple, I take it in my mouth and lick. He groans.

His hand on my ass grips tighter as he lifts me and moves us to the bed. He lays me down onto it, and that’s when the panic sets in.

Being in this room, with him, it’s just too much. The memory of my parents surrounds me, and I wonder to myself what they would think if they knew what was happening right now.

I pull back slightly from him and wait until he’s looking at me.

“Jake, I can’t… I mean we can’t…” My hands are still wrapped around his neck, him hovering over me. ”We can’t do-"

“It’s okay, Kayla.” He kisses my forehead. “We don’t have to do that, I mean, I don’t want to do that, not yet. But… please… just let me touch you. I think I’d die if I couldn’t…”

He trails off, searching my face for an answer, I nod.

His head dips down to kiss my chest, lower and lower until he gets to the swell of my breasts. His hands move to the hem of my top and begin to lift it over my stomach, my breasts, I sit up and help him remove it. Instantly, I lean into him, bare chested, skin on skin as he holds me. The heat from his skin radiating. He hasn’t seen me topless before and I’m afraid. He gently grips my shoulders and slowly lowers me back into a laying position. I reluctantly move. I lay there, still, watching him take me in. His eyes roaming from my face down my chest, resting on my breasts.

“God, Kayla. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers before he lowers his head.

Then his mouth is on my nipple, licking, sucking, gently biting while his other hand softly caresses the other breast.

I’ve never ever felt like this, this wanton need to combust. I’ve never felt like my body was being worshipped, and with Jake, that’s what it feels like. Like he’s here and he can’t get enough. The minute I feel his hand under my shorts I lose all control. I spread my legs further for him and he makes a moaning sound which vibrates through my nipples, straight to my core. My hand goes to the back of his head, gripping his hair, begging him without words to please Don’t. Fucking. Stop.