Penn’s eyes flash with naked surprise. He kisses me again, more urgently, and I melt into him until he pulls back suddenly. “Are you going to make me retreat to your make-out lair again?”
I give him a look, my hand fisted in his shirt. “It’s the beanbag lair. And no.” I bend forward to get back to kissing him, but he stops me.
“Are you sure? We could press pause on all of this and queue up some Hilary Duff to set the mood again. Or is this more of a Coldplay kind of night?”
“Coldplay?!”
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re into.”
I swat at him, laughing, then press my palm to his chest, where his heartbeat races through his thin sweater. I toy with the neckline. “Actually, someone recently told me that I don’t have to try so hard. So maybe we’ll just…find out what happens, together?”
I have no clue what I’m doing, but I know I want Penn, and I trust him. I know he’ll take good care of me.
“No plan.” Penn’s lips curve into an almost-grin. “My favorite kind.”
We stagger upstairs and into my bedroom, all tangled limbs and short breaths while we kiss our way to the bed. He shifts on top of me, and we move together with a steady rhythm I already crave low in my belly.
I press him into the mattress, and he lies back, one arm tucked behind his head. His hooded eyes watch as I skim my hands down his chest, across his stomach, lower. He bites his bottom lip, his eyes slanting to mine as I reach the hem of his shirt. His breath catches.
I’ve seen Penn in so many ways—in almost every way. But not like this. His curly hair is rumpled, his composure long gone as he stares up at me, pupils blown wide open.
He sits up and kisses me again, slowly sliding his hands beneath my silk shirt. After he pulls it off, he stops, swallowing at the sight of my pink lace bra. I stare back, mesmerized by his expression.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I whisper.
Penn grins. “I can’t believe we’ve waited this long.”
Frantically, sloppily, we continue to undress each other, laughing when Penn’s T-shirt and sweater get stuck on his head. Again, after his pants come off and he struggles with the button on mine. “You never make it easy for me,” he says. “Do you?”
“Do you want me to?” I ask, lifting my hips for him.
“No,” he rasps, his eyes raking over me. “I really don’t.” He tilts down to kiss me again, then whispers, “Relax, okay? Let me do this.”
I remember what he told me—how he needs to feel needed. “Okay,” I breathe.
When he finally manages to unbutton my pants, his hands slowly work the fabric down my legs, and his gaze follows. “God, Ruby,” he says thickly. “You’re…”
He doesn’t finish his thought, quickly tossing the pants aside.
I gasp. “I thought I was the impatient one.”
Penn smirks. “Oh, I’ve been patient, Wynne. Trust me. I have waited a long, long time for this.”
—
Moonlight spills infrom the tall windows, casting shadows across Penn’s face as he rests his head on the pillow beside me. He pushes my hair from my forehead, tracing his fingers along my cheekbone. I’ve never been adored like this. Savored like this. It needles at something in my chest, poking at the softest parts of me.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and I can’t handle the earnestness in his voice.
“Is it my turn to hear a list of compliments?” I’m joking, hoping to lighten the intimate mood and lessen the ache in my chest, but Penn takes me up on it.
“You’re so smart, it’s annoying,” he says. “Funny, too.”
I laugh. “Wow. You’re admitting it? Are you sure? Remember: no take-backs.”
His dimple appears. I press my thumb into it as his expression turns serious again. “You’re thoughtful,” he says quietly. “And fiercely loyal.” Each word is a low vibration I can feel in my chest. “And so…unapologetically yourself.”
My throat tightens. “I don’t know about that one.”
