Page 96 of Forced Proximity

I’m in love with you … he said it. He said it and now I’m here, in the quiet, and I can fully absorb the words. They drench me, these tingles and warmth and sunshine, consuming me from my toes to my head. He loves me.

Through my shower, as I wrap myself in a robe and shag a towel through my hair, as I brush my teeth and stretch, I repeat this. He. Loves. Me.

I run lotion up my arm when my phone buzzes. Justin. My heart trips over itself. Time to have The Talk. Gah! I release three quick breaths before answering. Come on. This is Justin. I talk to him every day. I can do this.

‘Hey.’ I can’t do this.

‘Hey you.’ His silken tone makes my knees buckle. ‘I know you said we needed to wait to see each other in person. And I promise I’m trying to respect your instructions, but I can’t. I don’t want to wait anymore, Lexi. I’ve waited a lifetime. I need to see you.’

Wow. The sensibleness in my brain and the fire in my body collide. I don’t want to wait either. I’m done waiting, done hiding, done pretending. My breath trembles. ‘Then maybe you should come over.’

‘I’m so relieved you said that.’ He pauses. ‘’Cause I’m standing outside your door.’

What?! I whip open the door, grab Justin by his jacket lapels and pull him into my apartment. My mouth crashes against his, and he immediately captures me back. Oh God, the firm, smooth, perfect mouth. Strong, confident lips moving against mine. He grips my neck and pulls me into him. My heartbeat thunders in my chest. I’m dizzy, but he holds me up, swipes his tongue against mine and … shit. God, his lips are everything I’ve dreamed about. I grip his waist, my hands tugging, pulling, forcing him closer.

I break the kiss and step back with my sputtering breath, warm cheeks and my robe slipping open slightly. ‘Hi,’ I whisper.

He brings his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks and swipes a thumb across my lower lip. ‘Hi.’

Justin’s here. He’s in my place, with me. Really with me. There’s so much I want to say, but … we’ll talk later. I yank him completely inside, kick the door closed and push my mouth into him again. Heavenly. He sucks on my lip, my tongue, moves his hands from my cheek to my head. God, he’s a good kisser. So much control, precision, perfectly soft and smooth. I suck in his bottom lip, lick it and release. Oh, he tastes so good. Mint and honey, and my belly quivers. I need to see more of him. To feel him. I tug on his jacket and pull it down. He shakes his arms out, unlocking our embrace only to toss it on the floor. Come back. Hurry. The second his jacket’s off, I go in for more.

‘Lexi …’ he moans into my mouth, kissing me again. ‘Is this okay? Is your lip okay?’

I can only nod, because if I speak, my mouth will leave his, and I never want to leave.

My hungry body writhes against his. My palms fly to his back, dig under his shirt for bare skin, and God, those muscles. Every firm ridge, every line, seeps into my fingertips, and I’m greedy. I need more, I want to melt into him, have him hold me, have him take care of me.

This is happening. Justin is here, now, safe, perfect. I snake my leg against his, push up against him. I need friction. More friction. There are too many clothes, too little time, so much time wasted. He cups my ass, lifts my thigh and drags me into him. I feel how hard he is through his jeans, and I move, grind, aching for more.

His shirt needs to go. I grip the bottom, tugging, and he reaches behind his head, grabs the collar, tears it off in one swoop. God, he’s so fucking hot. Breathless and hungry, my hand travels to his torso, pushing against each solid ridge. Sure, I’ve seen him without his shirt on before, felt his stomach when escorting him. But never like this. Nothing has ever been like this. ‘Is this okay?’ I ask, breathless, my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

‘God, yes,’ he says, his mouth warm against my ear, his hands still on my ass. ‘Okay for you?’

‘Mmmmm.’ I can’t form words. My entire brain is rendered useless. His skin is so smooth and warm. Heat transfers from his abs to my palm. I want to taste my hand that touched his skin. I want to trail my tongue across his stomach and dip it into that V at the hips. I want to lick everything, to consume him, to fill my mouth. Every touch shoots throbbing bites of energy into my core.

He spins me, drives me back against the wall, and my breath hitches. My knees need to stay steady, but I’m close to collapsing. But he’s here, taking care of me, supporting me, and I’m safe. He slows his mouth, pushes my hair off my face and throat, and the pads of his fingers leave tingling inscriptions on my cheeks. Tingles fly through me, hitting every cell. When his mouth meets the nape of my neck, and he gently kisses my scarred collarbone, goosebumps skitter across my flesh. He’s kissing every piece of skin exposed from the robe. Licking and nibbling my mouth, my neck, the crook below my ears, and my body is screaming. Years of compartmentalizing, fending for myself, feeling unworthy, crash down. Break. Dismantle. He knows everything. And he still loves me.

His mouth moves to my ears, and his heavy breaths tickle my skin. ‘Do we … should we still have The Talk?’

Fuck no. Right now, the only thing I need is him, and me, and learning every place that makes him moan. ‘No words. Not now. Just … this.’ I rake my fingers through his hair and kiss his neck, the clean, salted skin overwhelming my lips, making me thirst for more.

The sensations in my body are familiar, yet so new. What is he thinking? What am I thinking? This changes everything. With him, with me, with myself. With every kiss, I let him in. Every flicker of his tongue and touch breaks a barrier. My physical defenses vanish at the same speed as my emotional ones.

I feel so vulnerable, exposed in the most delicious way. I never thought I’d feel this close to somebody again. My heart is pounding so hard, so loud, he must feel it as I’m pressed against his chest. This here is not enough. My lips need more. My hands need more. I turn frantic, grabbing at him, his arms, his back, his torso, God that fucking torso, and skin and muscles and ugh … he’s so delicious. I hook my fingers into his waist band and tug. Are we doing what I think we’re doing? He’s got a stupid belt on, but God … I want it all.

He drops his hand, his breaths shaky and ragged, and reaches the outside of my robe. ‘Can I touch you?’

‘… yes … please …’ He parts the robe. The fabric slips over my thigh and his hands graze my skin. I stop breathing. This touch, this featherlight but intentional skim makes flutters rush through my skin and up my spine. He’s only on the outside of my leg, taking his sweet ass time, but I need him to hurry. My legs are quivering, desperate for more. I breathe against his mouth, lick his skin, savor the salt and desire, as he holds me steady. He’s so strong, so in control. I could let go and he’d catch me.

Justin will catch me. I can fall, and he’ll catch me. I capture his mouth again, the delicious tastes and sensations moving through me. His thigh moves between my legs, holding me up right, and oh. This is heaven. His hands slip between my thighs, moving higher, to the apex. My knees buckle and I seize on to his belt.

He holds me with one arm, as his other travels up, up, up … and oh my God, right there. His thumb and fingers work me, smoothly, expertly. My heart is pounding so hard, and I officially can’t breathe. I give up the kisses for air, for the sensations. And then, he dips a finger into me and my moans fill the room.

‘Lexi … you feel so good …’ He sighs into my ear. His breath fans my neck as he hooks his finger, pushing against the soft flesh, and I nearly collapse.

God, this feels so good, his fingers moving and gliding, and my insides clench. The emotional wall I’ve built and fiercely protected crumbles. My worries about not deserving love, being the protector, redeeming my past melt. He’s protecting me. He’s taking care of me. I’m worthy of being taken care of.

I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes, savoring the way his fingertips dance on me. He tugs open the robe belt, and I wriggle out, letting it fall to my ankles. All of me is open for him, and I feel so raw, so exposed, so loved.