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I lick my lips and look up at him. Holding his gaze, I feel like I can come clean. Like the wall is mid-crumble and all I have to do is say the word and it’ll come toppling down all the way.
“I… I looked through the box by the front door,” I confess.
“What?” Reese recoils. I’ve never seen him like that. I grab his wrist, hoping to soothe him before he bolts.
“I was curious. I know I shouldn’t have, but… seeing you grow up, reading those promises to yourself about how you wanted to be better than your father… It showed me more of you.”
Reese’s face is stricken. It’s not even angry or afraid. It’s just… blank.
“You… read those letters? All of them? And you’re still here?”
I shake my head. “Not all of them. There were more, but I remembered what you said about your mother. I didn’t want to know what you felt before you told me yourself. If you want to tell me yourself. I mean, you don’t have to, of course. But if you do want to… I’m here.”
He swallows. His tongue darts out, wetting dried lips. I want to kiss them. I need to comfort him.
Life is hard. We suffer, and then we die. But it’s not just those two things, is it? There has to be more. There is more.
If nothing else, there’s this: standing in a warm pool under a starry night, with the breath of another person flowing in time with yours. Two hearts, two bodies in sync. Maybe not forever, but for one beautiful second, at least.
Reese’s voice is a quiet, hollow croak. “Some are letters I never gave my father. Calling him an asshole. A monster. All the things. There’s one in there about my mother. No one’s ever seen it. But I—fuck—I missed her as much as I hated him.” He laughs, but it’s a choked, desperate laugh, like it’s the only thing keeping him from crying. “I was gonna throw the box out, you know. I hate how everything in it makes me feel. It’s why I’ve had it tucked away so long. And here you come, digging it all up with me.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
But it doesn’t matter what I was going to say next, because his mouth is suddenly on mine. His lips. Soft, hot. Eager. I melt against him before I can even think to tell him to stop.
I want this.
33
OLIVIA
My fingers tangle in his hair. He moves me until my back hits the edge of the pool as we kiss each other like we’re both desperate for air and the only way to get it is this. Hungry kisses full of moans, our bodies pressed together like we’re one entity. I haven’t craved as long or as deeply as I do for Reese.
I might die if I had to let him go.
His hardness presses against my hip. He ruts against me, groaning, and I press right back into him. My aching pussy is already slick with desire beneath the water’s surface. I spread my legs, letting him between them. He has to feel my heat, right? He has to know just how desperate I am to pick up where we left off the other morning.
“Do you want this?” He urges his hips against mine, lining his still-clothed cock along the covered slit of my center.
I whine and nod. “Fuck me, Reese. Like you should have before.”
His mouth descends on my throat. Biting, kissing, licking. My pulse is a hammer beneath his mouth. It shoots delicious, vibrant pleasure all through my body. And just when I think it can’t get more intense, Reese’s fingers sneak along the edge of my bikini bottoms.
“Ahh—”
My head tips back. Reese has skilled, rough fingers. They sink inside me and my body clenches around him desperately. My nails dig into his back. I’m holding on, keeping him close. Letting him go isn’t just a death sentence; if I do it, if something pries my hands off his perfect body, then cruel reality will come rushing back in. in. It’ll all turn out to be just another misplaced dream.
But no. This is very, very real.
Reese’s fingers crook. It’s like he already knows my body. He homes right in on my pleasure. As he strokes my G-spot, I roll my hips against him.
I just need release from these weeks of holding off, tiptoeing around the truth: that I was fucked the moment I acknowledged I was attracted to him. It was only a matter of time before we got here.
“You’re not fucking me yet,” I whine.
He chuckles. “I gotta drive you crazy first.”
He goes faster. Fucking me on his fingers as his thumb descends on my clit. He circles it, hard, rapid. I can’t keep up as he pushes in another finger beside the first two. They’re so thick.
