I move.
I'm clumsy. I don't know the angle. He finds it for me. His hand on the small of my back. His voice under me saying,there, yeah, there. I move slow. He opens under me. He lets me in. He keeps his eyes on my eyes and his hand on my hip and he doesn't break eye contact once.
“Look at you,” he says.
“Shut up.”
“Look at you.”
I don't last.
I told him I wouldn't, and I don't. I come inside him with my forehead pressed to his sternum and his hand in my hair and my body giving out on me from the inside out. I come saying his name, the real one, not the bar one,Maddox, Maddox, oh god Maddox, and he holds me through it. He keeps me inside him while I shake.
I collapse onto his chest.
His hand comes up and cradles the back of my head.
“Was that…?”
“Yeah.”
I lift my head. He's grinning at me. That sharp private grin.
“You didn't come.”
“I know.”
I drag a thumb across his lower lip.
“Let me take care of that.”
I slide down him. I put my mouth on him and take him all the way, and I work him until his hand is tight in my hair, his hips are coming up off the hoodie, and he's swearing at the sky, and he comes in my mouth with one hand on my jaw and the other fisted in pine needles.
I swallow. All of it.
I come up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and lie back down on his chest, and he wraps me up and laughs into my hair.
“Kid?”
“Yeah.”
His mouth grazes my temple.
“You're a menace.”
“Yeah.”
“I'm not done with you.”
I look up at him.
“Good.”
We don't leave for twenty minutes. He holds me. I listen to his heart under my ear. The cold finds us and he pulls his hoodie up off the ground and wraps us both in it.
“Again,” I say into his chest.
He laughs.
