Truth & Temptation

by Riley Edgewood

  He smoothes his hand up my body again, until it rests between my breasts. "Do you feel this?" Now he taps his fingers, damp from my own wetness, against me, in the rhythm of my heart. "Do you?"

  I nod and wind my legs around him, needing to feel him between them. Needing…something. More. But he holds his body away from mine, his eyes never leaving my face. "I want this," he says, tap, tap, pause. "I want all of it."

  "Take it," I say. He can have whatever he wants from me, as long as he gives me what I need. I've never experienced this clawing sort of ache, etching itself into every inch of me. My body is quivering, begging me to beg him, but he speaks before I can.

  "Don't tell me to take it," he rasps. "Tell me I have it."

  "You have it. You have everything." The words tumble out so easily, so smoothly… For the first time, I realize how much of me he truly possesses. He dug his way through every wall I've ever raised and now there is only him, only Alec.

  With my words, something in his expression relaxes, like a sigh cascading over his features. And finally he lowers himself between my legs, allowing his erection to slide through the wetness waiting there, and I nearly come undone with no more than the feel of his tip, nudging me open.

  "Do you want me to get a—"

  "No." I shake my head, wrapping my feet more securely around his waist. I don't want a condom. I only want him. Alec, unsheathed, inside of me.

  And like he's reading my thoughts, he pushes himself into me.

  Slowly.

  A tight, throbbing pressure fills me as I stretch around him, and I'm not sure if the pain or pleasure that comes with it is greater. The noise that falls from my lips is full of both. He pauses. "Am I hurting you?"

  "Almost as much as you're pleasing me," I say, my teeth gritted. "Don't stop. All I want is to feel you everywhere."

  He pulls away, and I gasp at the lack of contact but before the sound is finished leaving my mouth he's back. Inside of me. His entire head, pushing through me, into me.

  And then he pushes harder, further in. I gasp again, this time…a little more pain. But I tighten my ankles around him before he can pull out. "Don't stop," I repeat. "I knew there would be pain. That doesn't keep this from being the most meaningful moment of my entire life."

  His eyes soften; he wants to stop. I can tell by the tense set of his shoulders, by the worry in the muscle ticking in his jaw, that hurting me destroys him. Piper's words flash through my mind, the ones about him being half in love with me. I believe it now more than ever.

  "I won't stop." He shifts his hips forward another inch. And another.

  The more he gives me, the more I want. The more the pleasure pulls ahead of the pain. I grab his ass and I pull him toward me, but he locks his stance without budging.

  "I need you, Alec," I say. "All the way inside of me."

  "Teagan…" He stares at me, into me, and he crushes his mouth against mine, breathing heavy, and when I open my mouth to accept his tongue, he pierces me, pushing all the way inside.

  I moan, and I hold him, digging my nails into his back. My body yawns around him, spreading to allow him a full fit.

  It's uncomfortable—but it's also amazing. There's not a single nerve in my body that wants him to stop.

  "Teagan," he says again, his whisper right at my ear. He kisses my neck, he says my name. I turn my face to capture his mouth with mine, needing him to kiss away the discomfort. He uses his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. He runs his hands along my body, lightly, forcefully, everything in between, and my back arches, and I ache for more.

  Yet, the inside of me is tender and tense.

  But I breathe deeply and discover undercurrents of pleasure running beneath the surface. The more I focus on them, the stronger they grow, whirling, flooding, rushing. And because of the way the sensations surge through me, I notice how still Alec is against them.

  He is still. So, so still.

  When I open my eyes again, he's watching me with a sort of tenderness I never knew existed before this exact moment. Part of me dissolves under his gaze, a brick I'd stacked against emotion deep in my soul that I will never, ever get back. But, in this moment, I don't want it anymore anyway.

  I'm not sure which of us is more surprised when a tear slips down my cheek.

  "It's okay," I say when he starts to speak, concern etched into his brows. "It's because I'm happy." The last word quivers as I speak it, and another tear escapes, slipping sideways down my other cheek. I keep my gaze steady on his, but soon my vision is too blurred to see clearly.

  He's done this to me. He's found the center of who I am, and he's set it spinning.

  Me.

  I am spinning.

  In love.

  Alec kisses me again, feathering his lips over mine and whispering sweet nothings against my mouth and across my cheek and into my ear, and he slowly, slowly rocks his hips back.

  Then forth.

  Back.

  Then forth.

  And small blossoms of pleasure unfurl, growing and growing until my mind is unable to focus on anything else.

  My hips start to rock too, and soon the way I dig my fingers into his back is a sort of mindless pleasure rather than to ward off the pain of moments ago.

  We move together fluidly, his stomach and chest easing over my body as he thrusts. Soon, I'm bucking my hips to meet his force, because it feels good. Better than good, with every moment, every motion that passes. He pauses here and there to combine our mouths in sweeping kisses, but our bodies never slow for long.

  Except for once.

  Except for when he goes still again, pressing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. I roll my hips, needing to continue the beautiful friction, but he shakes his head against me and whispers, "hold on," so strangled, I'm oddly tempted to giggle. Oddly tempted to press on and make him lose control. But I don't want the moment to end, so I hold my body motionless the best I can.

  A moment later, he loses a bit of the tension from the way he holds himself, and when he opens his eyes there's a wicked gleam in them.

  He pushes up on his knees and, before I'm expecting it, he pushes all the way into me—at a different angle.

  An angle that has him ridging deeper into me, knocking every nerve down along the way.

  An angle that has him hitting a new spot at the depth of his drive, one that makes me shiver uncontrollably underneath him.

  And then he reaches between us, rolling me in his fingers, pressing me in circles until I'm begging him not to stop, never to stop… He slams into me again and again and again and a wildness builds in me, my hips rolling, rolling, needing to reach a peak I never thought I'd find tonight. Not my first time.

  But Alec is determined. And there's sweat on his brow.

  I want to lap it up with my tongue.

  I settle for his mouth though, pulling his face to mine, slipping my tongue through his lips, clawing my hands through his hair, down his back, to grab his ass and pull him harder into me.

  And harder.

  He responds in kind, slamming so hard into me my head slides halfway off the bed. Instead of stopping, he thrusts again and lowers his head to pull a nipple into his mouth. He doesn't hold back, sucking as hard as he's fucking, as hard as he's tucking me between his fingers, and I can't bite back a cry. It rips out of my lungs and fills the room, and I wrap my arms around him, holding on, holding on and somehow starting to fall without actually falling.

  He's grunting, and I'm spiraling down around him in the no-longer-steady room. Flashes of heat span out from between my ribs and twist lower, lower in the both familiar and also achingly new sense of a looming orgasm. I tighten, tighten, tighten around him with so much force he loses himself too, and we're thrashing and moving and swimming in each other.

  I don't know who finishes first. All I'm aware of are the echoes of pleasure writhing through every single part of me. They're so intense I lose track of all else and when I come back down, Alec is panting over me, his dark hair tang
led and sweaty against his forehead.

  My heart is slamming in my chest, and I am tingling from head to toe. Trembling, too. And when Alec collapses on me, I discover I'm not the only one.

  "Fuck, kitten." His voice is hoarse, and he slips out of me—and the loss of him there makes me whimper. His shoulders shake when he laughs, burying his face in my neck.

  I love you, I want to say, but don't.

  "Come here." He tucks an arm under me and rolls us to the side, folding me into his chest. I let him hold me, because I've never felt so cherished, so safe.

  For a while, a long while, there's nothing but the sounds of our breathing and the racing of our hearts. I hear the way his pounds in his chest as clearly as I feel my own.

  Another set of tears well in my eyes, though these I'm able to blink away. Mostly.

  I thought… I thought it would be real, raw even, with nothing separating us. But it turns out the lack of a condom has nothing to do with why the moment is so raw between us. This goes so much deeper than that.

  "You know me for exactly who I am," I say, leaning away to study his face, tugging my fingers through his damp hair, treading them down his back. "And I love that you do. I've never…" I clear my throat. "I've never felt this way."

  He kisses me, slowly and smoothly, before he says, "Neither have I."

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  I'M NOT SURE when we fall asleep. Sometime after we discuss pancakes for the morning, and sometime before I tell him I love him. Because I chicken out repeatedly on that front.

  When I open my eyes, the first things I see are his hands, wrapped around my own. One of his arms is thrown over me, the other under my neck. Spooning. I've never done it.

  I never want to stop.

  His chest is hot against my back.

  He's got morning wood between my legs.

  It makes me grin.

  It makes me want to do wicked, wicked things.

  Until my mom's whispers twist through my mind. That's right, sweetie, that's how to keep him hooked. Spread your legs, and he'll do the same with his wallet.

  I've never scrambled out of bed so fast in my entire life. Alec cracks an eye, stretching—totally uninhibited by his nakedness, by the thickness of his arousal. "Get back here," he grumbles, reaching out for me. "I can't stand one moment without you in my bed."

  "Gotta pee." Gotta pee? What the hell is wrong with me?

  But I dart into the bathroom and do it anyway, hanging my head in my hands. Really, what is wrong with me? How do I get my mother out of my head? How do I keep her from ruining this?

  I love him. That love has nothing to do with his money…right? So why the hell is my stupid make-believe mother still taking over my thoughts?

  I wonder if Straight Talk No Jacket does emergency Saturday sessions.

  Then I think of my last session. Self-determination and self-knowledge. Maybe those things don't only have to apply to my career. Maybe they can help me here, too.

  Alec raps on one of the doors. "I'll start breakfast."

  And I love him more now than I did a second ago. He wanted me back in his bed, but he knows I need some time. He's not pressing me.

  Still, it's another few minutes before I can let myself out of the bathroom. I smile when I notice the undershirt he's left on his bed for me.

  I slip it on, and then, after a moment of silence to make sure my mother has nothing left to say, I head downstairs.

  Alec's mixing batter in nothing but boxer briefs, and he looks fucking delicious.

  "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asks, a knowing look across his face.

  God. He can read me like a book.

  Better than I can read an actual book…

  Ha.

  I'm so punny.

  I take a deep breath, surprised to be more nervous about this than I was about sleeping with him last night. Self-determination, I remind myself. And self-knowledge. I know what scares me, and I know I want to be honest with Alec. Because that's our thing.

  And I don't want to lose him.

  I open my mouth—right as my gaze falls on a familiar folded piece of clothing. Cassidy's blazer. "I forgot I left this. Why do you still have it?"

  "At first, I didn't know how to find you to return it." He levels me with a look that'd pass as stern if he wasn't smiling so wide with the memory. "Then…it was my safety measure. If all else failed, I had a reason to talk to you one last time."

  He shrugs like it's no big deal. But it is. It's a really big freaking deal, and it makes me melty all over, knowing he didn't want to give up on us from the start.

  "Score, there's fifteen dollars in the pocket, I think. Coffee money!" I smile when he laughs. "What happens when you go to Harvard in the fall?" I ask. It's not the thing I wanted to say, but it's one of the things I've been afraid to bring up. So I guess it counts.

  He looks surprised—and then aware. "You think this is a summer thing?"

  "I don't know what to think." I know what I want to think…

  "This is more than a summer thing," he says, serious and tender. "I've got one more year there. I'll come back all the time. And you can fly out on the weekends. If you want, I mean."

  "I'm not sure I have the budget for that," I say, quietly. But I offer him a smile, anyway, because he clearly hadn't even thought about the end of the summer, like the possibility of us being over hadn't entered his mind. And I love him for it.

  "I'll fly you out," he says, like it's so simple. Like it doesn't make my stomach sour.

  "I don't want you to fly me out. I mean, I do. But… I'm nervous that part of me likes you because you're rich." There. It's out in the open now.

  "Because of who your mom is?"

  Because she's in my head. "For one thing. But also. You're rich. I'm poor. Isn't that how these things work?"

  There's a long pause before he responds. "Is that really what you think? Really how you define me?" His jaw clenches. I've hurt him.

  "Wait—hear me out, okay? I don't feel like what I feel for you has anything to do with your bank account." I reach halfway to him, but he moves away. Understandably. Heartbreakingly. "But I have my mother's genes. And she chases bank accounts like dogs chase balls. With zero discretion. And you're rich. And you're pretty. And it makes me nervous."

  He doesn't say anything and the silence between us is a balloon full of tension growing closer, closer to popping.

  "You know what—can we go back to a few minutes ago and start over? Forget I said anything?" Because…because what if this has nothing to do with his money and everything to do with my mind finding a way to hold on to my mother's voice, since it's the only interaction I'll ever have with her? How did I never pick up on this before? Instead I, what? Have been using her as an excuse to keep myself from being happy with Alec?

  No. Not an excuse, a valid reason. What I said to him is true—I do have her genes.

  But, still. Maybe there's more to it.

  This…is something I might need more time to digest.

  And later—because right now Alec's expression is so grim, my stomach clenches. I want to fill him in on my epiphany, but I don't know how to put it into words that don't make me want to punch myself in the face. Then he asks, "You think I'm pretty?"

  And the balloon of tension I thought was between us bursts into laughter.

  "You know you're pretty," I say, thrilled that I've somehow found my way to this guy who's so easygoing, who lets me be a little neurotic—and then let's it all go. "I…" love you. Why can't I say it? "I… I'm starving. Hurry up with those pancakes."

  But when he turns from me, toward the stove, I have an idea.

  I'm going to set something up for us. Something special. So when I tell him, there'll be no doubt it's true. So when I say the words he won't wonder if they're a part of the euphoria that comes with how perfect last night was.

  "You've got a nice ass," I say, admiring the way his briefs shape it. "God, even yours has more shape than mine, all fl
at." I sigh, all dramatically.

  He leaves the batter on the counter, striding toward me, a devilish grin across his pretty mouth. "You do not have a flat ass, you beautiful idiot. You have a gorgeous ass. I could kiss every inch of it. In fact, get that sweet ass over here so I can do it right now."

  And when I shriek, attempting to run away, he captures me with the grace of a lion springing on its prey. And he makes good on his word for the rest of the morning.

  We never do get around to those pancakes.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  I TELL ALEC I want to take him somewhere next weekend. He asks for details, I refuse to give them. So he thinks it's a surprise—which I guess it will be—which puts extra pressure on me to figure out where the hell I want to take him. It needs to be special.

  Clearwater Heights comes to mind. But to get reservations there before next year I'd need to be…well, Alec. And that place is so far out of my budget it's about as available to me as Mars is, which is to say I'd pretty much need to sell a spaceship to afford it.

  I almost ask Vera if she has any ideas. But… I'm not ready for her gooey-eyed response when I say the L word.

  I almost ask Sam for an idea at work. But… I kinda want this to come from me. And Sam's busy trying to decide if he's going to forgive Ty—who's begging for another chance—while also stressing out about leaving for his freshman year at Brown in a month.

  A month.

  That's how long I have with Alec. Should I be panicking?

  Because I'm not.

  Maybe this is how love works. Maybe love gives us faith that things will work out. And even if they don't, my life is better for having him in it.

  Holy shit I'm a sappy motherfucker these days.

  For obvious reasons, it's difficult to avoid Alec at work. And not like I really want to avoid him, but I'm so tempted to blurt out my feelings every time I see him, I find myself cleaning the break room a lot. And I take over the supply room for Sam to keep me away from my desk. It really does help me to pass a shit ton of time, considering I have to read labels for specific things, like types of pens and printer paper and a bunch of crap people leave wherever they please. Things people without a learning disability could sort in ten minutes or less. It's annoying, but I know I have options to make it easier. I'm choosing in this instance not to use them because the entire point is to keep me out of Alec's line of vision for a little while longer.