Everything inside me, every molecule of my body was on fire as I closed the space between us, instinct and need taking me over and operating me, moving my legs and causing my arms to lift, my hands to close around her cheeks, gently, so tenderly, electric fire blazing from the touch of fingertip to her flesh, and now her eyes were close and so bright and caught up with wonder and her hands were on me, on my back and the nape of my neck and I was kissing her, kissing her, god, I was kissing her.
Something in my soul splintered open. Her lips were heat and moisture and tasted of cranberry. She kissed me back, no hesitation, no doubt, nothing but pure response and awestruck passion.
Nothing had ever felt so cataclysmic, so fraught with atomic power. I couldn't breathe for the kiss, hadn't taken a breath in an eternity, and it didn't matter because now, suddenly, she was my breath. I'd never kissed anyone before this. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulled me closer, deeper. She rose up on her toes and wrapped one arm around my shoulders, and I couldn't do anything except lift her up, catch her with my arm beneath her thighs and under her ass, and I kissed her, felt dizzy from the way she devoured my breath and my kiss and my need and returned it and hadn't questioned my presence or this sudden kiss, had only responded in the way I needed so badly.
Somehow we were moving, and I heard the door slam closed and felt her hand return to tangling in my hair and there was a couch beneath my legs and I was tumbling backward, sitting down and sliding to my back, holding on to her, refusing to relinquish a single point of contact, and she was on top of me, above me, all around me, her hair a night-black curtain around our faces; her lips were desperate against mine and her tongue was frantic inside my mouth and she was making these tiny little sighing sounds that made me mad and wild and primal with need.
"Awake My Soul" by Mumford & Sons played, and yes, I was waking up for the first time, my soul expanding and learning to breathe.
She pulled back, just enough to speak, her lips moving against mine, her eyes wet and so close to mine. "Is this real?"
"Yes."
"Are you really here?"
"Yes."
She whimpered and buried her face against my throat. "Don't--don't lie to me. Don't let it be a dream."
My hands were on the backs of her thighs, her flesh hot as coals and softer than silk. "Ever..." I didn't know what to say. I was praying it wasn't a dream just as fervently as was she. "It's real. Say my name so I know it's real."
"Caden." She lifted her face to look at me. "Cade."
Then, "Why are you here?" She threaded her hands in my hair, her thumbs on my temples, her lips, between words, touching featherlight kisses to my lips and the corners of my mouth.
"I couldn't...I don't know--I couldn't take it anymore."
"Take what?"
I brushed her hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ears. I'd known the feel of her body for all of my life, it seemed, known the possession of her flesh for as long as I'd drawn breath. "The loneliness. The memories. The need for...for something I'd never had. The need for something to fill the hole inside me." All of that was the raw, unvarnished truth, but it wasn't all of the truth. "I've always told you everything. Mom died, and I wrote you. Dad died, and I wrote you. And now...and now my only friend died, and I couldn't take any more of it, couldn't take it all alone."
"Who died? How?" She brushed her thumb over my cheekbone, and I shivered from the touch.
"Alex. My roommate. I've never had friends. Never made friends. Except you. And he...he OD'd. I found him dead in his room. And I can't take it anymore, can't stand to bury him, too. Fuck. I'm...I'm alone. Always alone. And I can't--I can't take it anymore."
"You're not alone. You've always had me. And how did you know I needed you?" She said this in a whisper aching with vulnerable fragility. "I was losing my mind. Doubting everything. Doubting myself. Doubting...life. And then you show up and...and I was too afraid to go to you, afraid you'd--you wouldn't want me, you didn't feel--"
"Ssshhh." I stopped her. "I do. I always have."
"Then why...why are we just now meeting? Just now doing this?" She shook, her shoulders betraying the tears she hid against my shirt.
"I don't know. God, Ever. I don't know. Why?" I held her and felt my own eyes sting with tears. "So close, for so long. Why did we never--"
She heard the break in my voice, heard the tears. Lifted her face and let me see hers and pressed her lips to mine and we kissed, our tears mingling. "I don't know. It doesn't matter now. It doesn't matter, not anymore. You're here. I'm here. We're...we're here." She breathed a shuddering sob/sigh and clutched my neck. "Don't go. Please. Please. Don't ever leave me."
This was an outpouring between us, an unleashing. It was as if a lifetime of pent-up need and imprisoned love was finally unfurling once-pinioned wings and taking flight, finding freedom in the far blue forever of the sky.
"I won't."
She pinned my eyes with hers. I saw need in her jade gaze. "What is this, with us?"
"I don't know." What words could I use? I'd just met her after five years of letters. But I knew her, and I needed her. "It's...everything. It's--"
"That's what I need. I need everything, Cade. I need you...your everything. Your always." She sounded as if the words were being tugged from her, drawn involuntarily from the depths of her soul. Like she didn't want to say them, to admit such need, but couldn't help it.
I knew exactly how she felt.
"Is this crazy?" I asked.
"Yes. It is." Her forehead touched mine. Both of us had our eyes shut tight. "But it's not. We've divulged to each other our deepest secrets, the most vulnerable truths. We journaled to each other for five years, holding nothing back. At least, I never held anything back from you, and I don't think you did, either--"
"Neither did I. We haven't been writing as much lately, I guess, and when I found Alex, I just couldn't--"
"I needed more than letters. I didn't know what to write. Billy...he cheated on me, lied to me, and it fucked me up in my head so bad, I don't even know how to deal with it. And I dreamed of you, and I can't get you out of my head. I paint you all the time. Even when I was with Billy, I would paint you when nothing else made any sense, when I couldn't get another piece to work right, I would paint your face. Again and again, and it always helped, and then I found out about Billy lying to me and cheating on me and I just--I just--I thought about you, about what if there was more, what if I showed up at your house--"
"Why didn't you?"
Ever rested her head against my shoulder, pillowing her face between my bicep and my pectoral muscle, and my hands were on her waist, one near her hip and the other on the small of her back. So familiar. Like holding her was my whole eternity, like we'd always held each other this way. But we hadn't, and it was exhilarating. It was Ever, actually Ever, and her body was so soft against mine, warm, her weight a perfect pressure, her breasts crushed against me, and I wanted so much, but there was more to say.
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
"That you'd...stopped caring about me. That way, I mean. This way. You said you'd had a crush on me, and that it was a literary love, but did that mean more? I didn't dare ask, because I was with Billy at that point and I--I don't even know why I didn't ask, why I didn't--" She stopped abruptly, curled her fingers into fists in my shirt, raw emotion consuming her. "Why did we waste so much time, Cade? Why?"
"I don't know, Ever." I ran my hands up her spine and back down, stopping at her waist. "I wish I knew. I wish I'd been with you all this time. I've--I've never stopped feeling this way about you."
She lifted up and our eyes met. We were still lying on the couch, her on top of me. Her partially unbuttoned shirt hung free, and I could see she wasn't wearing a bra, wasn't wearing anything, was bare beneath the thin scrap of cotton. My body was on fire. "What way? Tell me, Cade. Tell me how you feel. We've never shied away from the truth with each other. Let's not start now."
"But...we haven't--
we haven't seen each other since we were fourteen. Fifteen? We're basically meeting each other for the first time. How can I...put all that out there so soon? How can I even be feeling all this so soon? It's crazy. It's...so much. My head is spinning. My heart, all of me is spinning."
"Me too." She was completely on top of me, her arms beneath her, propping her upper torso on my chest. Her arms were barred on either side of her breasts, which bulged out of the shirt. I was mesmerized, torn between her hypnotic eyes and her tantalizing breasts. "But...all that time, all those years we've known each other. I know you, Caden Monroe. I know who you are. This is right, and I'm not afraid of it. I'm afraid of losing it. That's all I'm afraid of now. Losing you. So what is this, for you? What am I to you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I hadn't said those words in so long. Never to anyone but Mom and Dad.
Ever's eyes speared into me, drilled, dug, devoured. Denied me the ability to lie, to hesitate, to withdraw or to shy away or to do anything but admit it all, bare it all, risk it all.
"This is love, Ever." The words tumbled out, and I was rocked to my core by the admission. "I love you. Since I met you at Interlochen, I've loved you."
Ever
The smell of oil paint hung thick in the air. Cade was a muscled hulk of man beneath me, hard, huge, and rugged. My insides were coiled tight, had been since I opened the door to see him standing there, backlit by the late afternoon sun. He was wearing a faded pair of Levis, the kind of worn, faded look that only comes from actually being worn hard, not the expensive, pre-faded look of Billy's $150 jeans. A tight black T-shirt hugged Cade's torso, which was thick with cords of muscle. He was work-hardened, life-toughened. His hands on my cheeks were rough and callused, just like in my dream, but so gentle. His eyes, pure amber, were liquid heat, searing me, demanding all I had, all I was, and giving the same back to me.
He wanted me.
He loved me.
He loved me? How? How could he? How could he know that? I'd demanded he tell me how he felt. And how did I feel?
"I love you, Cade." I didn't tack on the "too." It wasn't that I loved him as well; I loved him. I'd always loved him, but for some reason I couldn't understand I'd ignored that fact for five years.
He seemed to shudder as he absorbed what I'd said. "For real?"
I couldn't help but laugh at the raw wonder in his voice, the sheer shock. "Yes. I do."
"Why?"
"Because our souls belong together. Because...because after everything you've been through, everything you've endured in your life, you're still here. You're strong. You're...you're all man. You're talented, but humble. You know me. You know my secrets. Things I could never tell anyone else. You've been there since I was a kid, a girl figuring out who she was, and now I know who I am, and you are part of that. Our letters have been a part of me, a part of my maturing, part of who I am as I've grown up. Which means you're a part of all that, part of me. That's why I love you." It was so easy to say that phrase somehow. I'd thought it would be hard.
A dusting of black stubble coated his cheeks, offsetting his amber eyes. His skin was tanned from endless hours in the sun, and his gaze on me was unwavering. I could dive into his eyes and stay submerged there, drown in his expression.
His mouth worked, as if he was trying to speak but simply couldn't find the words. All I could see, though, was the way his mouth moved, the way his lips were slightly chapped and swollen from kissing me, the way his five o'clock shadow shifted with the movement of his facial muscles. He had high cheekbones and thick, full eyelashes, fluttering dark against his skin. I wanted to kiss him there, kiss the tender place just beneath his eyes.
I could, couldn't I? I didn't have to wonder, to dream, to imagine. I let my face descend and my lips touch his eyebrows, the ridge at the corner of his eyes, delighting in the sharp intake of breath he made as my mouth caressed his skin, the way his hands tightened on my waist.
He'd been so careful to keep his hands on my back, on my waist, and his eyes on mine, constantly tearing his gaze away from my tits and my flesh. I wanted more. I wanted it all. I needed it all. All of him. I needed to unwrap myself and let him delve into me, I needed to fly free into the high heaven of his body, his touch, his caress and his love.
I'd never felt that, the true caress of love. I'd felt the grip of lust, of lascivious ardor.
He tilted his face and caught my lips, and his kiss was a tide, a rolling wave overwhelming my breath and my thoughts in crashing fervor. I arched my spine and pressed my breasts against his hard chest, lifting my ass, seeking his touch there. I opened my eyes and pulled away from his lips, seeing need in his eyes to mirror my own, and I wished I knew how to get him to unleash himself, to quit holding back.
"Ever..." His voice was so deep, smooth and dark and rich. "God, you're so...much. So beautiful. I feel drunk from kissing you. Like touching you makes me high. I'm dizzy from your skin."
The poetry of his words made me quiver and shudder and made me clutch him and kiss him compulsively. I nuzzled his throat, felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, kissed the hollow of his throat and the side of his neck and up to the crevice behind his ear and then the hard ridge of his jaw. "You're all there is, all I know. All I need." I whispered the words with my lips brushing the shell of his ear. "And I need more of you. All of you. Now. I need it...all, now. Please, Cade. I've needed you for so long. Don't make me wait anymore."
"I'm...I'm broken, Ever." His words cracked as he spoke them. It was admission torn from the bottom of his soul.
"Me, too. Let's heal each other. Put each other back together again."
"Here?"
I moaned in frustration. I didn't want to be reminded of reality. Of the fact that my private studio space was unlocked and that there were windows cracked open so sound could escape, even if the blinds were drawn closed. "No. God. Goddamn it." I slid off him, and as I stood up, I relished the way his eyes raked down my body and back up, and then his gaze locked on mine, as if embarrassed to be caught looking at me.
I held out my hand to him, and he took it in his, his palm engulfing my fingers. I drew him to me, pressed my boobs against his chest. "You can look, Cade," I told him. "Look at me." I freed a button, and felt myself spill out, the edges of the shirt just barely covering my nipples.
He let his eyes leave mine, slide down, and his breath halted as he saw my nearly bared breasts.
"Touch me," I whispered. My heart hammered, my pulse sent haywire by my daring, my need for him.
He touched the pad of his index finger to my collarbone, dragged it across the bone, sliding the edge of my shirt aside. Down, then, his finger moved, and his eyes were on mine as he moved the shirt away, and then my left breast was bare to the air and to his gaze and to his touch, and I was breathless. His hand cupped underneath my boob, and then he lifted its weight and the heel of his palm brushed my erect nipple, sending sparks through me. He flattened his hand over my breastbone, and then slid the other side of my shirt away and caressed my right breast, and then he was on his knees in front of me, kneeling before me, and his fingers were freeing the last few buttons and his lips were on my skin, his mouth grazing my navel.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and tried to remember to keep breathing. He kissed upward, dragging his lips across my flesh, which pebbled with goosebumps. His hands curled around my waist and slid up the bare skin of my spine, pulled me closer and then his mouth was touching too-gentle kisses to the round underside of my breast, and now my lungs filled with an abrupt whoosh, which turned into an eager moan as his lips closed on my nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and I was gone, gone, aching all throughout my body, fire blazing a trail from my tits down to my core, and as he tugged on my nipple with his nimble lips the line of heat grew hotter and the pulling within my core loosed a torrent of damp, slick need between my thighs.
"Cade, Jesus, Cade...." I breathed, "don't stop, please, don't ever stop..."
He moved
his mouth to the other breast and I was dizzy, my knees weak, and his palms were skating up and down my back, holding my shoulder blades and curling under the shirt fabric over my shoulders and down again, to the upper swell of my ass.
"Hot," he murmured when he realized I wasn't wearing panties. His mouth touched an electric kiss between my breasts and then moved down, and my entire body was...what was beyond fire? What was hotter than flame?
He pulled his gaze away and his mouth away, and I whimpered at the loss of the hot wet slide of his lips against my skin, but I was rewarded by the raw heat in his gaze as he stared at my privates. He licked his lips, and his hands on my hips tightened their grip, dimpling the flesh with some sort of control he was trying to exercise over himself..
"Talk to me, Cade." I needed affirmation from him. I needed to know his thoughts, to know how he felt. I needed, simply, to hear his voice.
"I want you, Ever." His voice shook. "So bad. You were beautiful when you were fifteen. You're...Jesus fuck, Ever, you're a goddess now. Let me worship you."
"Please?" I could barely speak.
My button-down painting shirt was hanging from the crooks of my elbows. His mouth devoured my navel, the inward curve where my hip and my thigh met. I shivered and shook, curled my fingers in his hair and panted, heard tiny mewling moans emit from my throat as his kisses slid down my thigh and back up, across my belly, low. I trembled in his grip. His hands rested on my hips, held me still. I needed his touch; I placed my hand on his, moved his palm with my finger twined in his to cup my ass, my head tilted back, my eyes closed, my breath coming in shallow gasps of ragged passion.
He took the hint and took the taut round weight of my ass in both his hands, caressed the flesh, cupped, tested the firmness with his fingers, ran his palms underneath and lifted each cheek, traced the crease with sliding fingers, dipped in through the keyhole gap and ignited trembling need into an inferno.
I let my feet slide apart, opening for him. "Cade? More. Touch me. Please."
I had no problem begging him. I'd beg him until he sated the ravenous hunger within me for his touch, for his kisses, for his caresses and his love. I needed this, more than I'd ever needed anything, and he was being so slow, so careful, exploring me with thoroughness that left me shivering with impatience.
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