In one fell swoop he wrapped his arms around me and moved, spinning so I was lying on the couch and he was over me. He did it so fluidly that our bodies never lost contact.
The weight of him pressed me farther into the couch and I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him even closer. He was in me. Around me. Over me. He was the only thing I could see. He was the only thing I could feel.
It was exactly what I wanted.
He pulled himself out but just as quickly pushed back in, repeating the motion over and over again until the only word I could murmur was his name.
When I thought I couldn’t possibly take anymore and I was surely going to die with need, he pressed his forehead against mine and whispered, “I want you to come with me,” and pushed in deep. So blissfully deep that a tidal wave of pure ecstasy rolled over me. It was so strong my entire body surrendered, going limp and boneless against the couch.
Olly collapsed against me, his chest slick with sweat, as he sucked in lungfuls of air. We didn’t say anything for a long time… The chemistry swirling between us said more than any words ever could. When he finally shifted, removing some of his weight from me, I grabbed on to him, trying to keep him close.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured as he fitted himself between the couch and me, coercing my body to spoon against his, and he wrapped his arm around my waist, securing me firmly beside him.
I turned my head so I was looking up at him. “Olly?”
He made a sound in the back of his throat.
“Everything’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” Even the passion swirling inside me, the feeling of being safely in his arms, couldn’t keep away all the fear. If anything, those things made the fear worse because I knew how much I had to lose.
I couldn’t lose this. I couldn’t lose him.
But we were up against death and the odds were stacked against us.
He brushed the hair away from my face, his touch so tender that my heart ached anew. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’m not going to let anything take this away from us.”
I nodded, snuggling in even closer. Part of me felt better because I knew he meant what he said. But the other part of me…
The other part of me whispered that Death didn’t care.
Chapter Forty-Five
“Tears - a drop of the clear salty liquid that is secreted by the lachrymal gland of the eye to lubricate the surface between the eyeball and eyelid and to wash away irritants.”
Charming
She was asleep when I slid out from beneath her and went into the bathroom. I flicked on the light and smiled down at the sink. There were bottles of product and hairbrushes scattered everywhere. She was an utter disaster. Clothes all over the floor in her room, her closet looked like it exploded, and her bathroom was clearly no better.
I loved it.
I hoped she never changed.
I looked in the mirror, the first time I actually looked at myself since taking back my body. Frankie never changed, but I sure as hell did.
It was startling to look in the mirror and see someone you didn’t expect to see. Kind of like being out in public and seeing a person you hadn’t seen in a long time. At first glance you don’t recognize them so you do a double take. The second time you look it clicks, and you realize you know who it is.
I knew this face. I knew this body. I was familiar with it. There was a scar on my knee from when I fell off my bike when I was five. I got the blond hair from my grandfather who worked in a factory all his life and brought me a lollipop every time he visited. This was the body I grew up in. I had history here.
And now I had a future here too.
Two arms appeared from behind, wrapping themselves around my waist and hugging tight. Frankie pressed her cheek against my back and let out a small sigh of contentment. “I forgot to mention how much I like that tattoo.”
I turned so I could stare at the black scroll design that stretched across the side of my shoulder. I got it when I turned eighteen.
“I forgot to mention that I like when you don’t wear clothes.”
Her laugh was throaty. “Oh, I think that came up.”
“Want it to come up again?”
