Page 33 of Summer

She is everywhere, but I want her even closer.

Her lips slide from mine, and I whimper, not wanting this kiss to end. She trails her lips along my jaw, tracing my skin with soft bites and licks. Her hand at my hip grips me, pulling me close, our bodies entwined.

“Get this fucking corset off me,” she growls into my neck.

Her language stuns me out of my reverie, and I jerk away, shocked. I feel out of control, unraveling at her touch. She watches my face carefully, pulling away, and I long to pull her closer even as panic sets in.

What am I doing? I need to regain some semblance of control. I need to walk away, to pretend this never happened, to…to…

But I can’t. I am frozen, rooted to the spot, watching her dark eyes search mine.

“Oh,” she breathes, stepping away from me. “I…” she trails, then swallows. Summer averts her eyes, but not before I catch the look of hurt in them.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’ve just never…uhm…”

“Did you just apologize? To me?” Her gaze flicks up to me, a smile curling around the edges of her lips. “Shall I call the physician to see if you’re well?”

I don’t feel well. No, that’s not right – I feel amazing, but also empty. Like a part of me I’ve shoved away finally saw light but was left wanting. I’m suddenly raw, exposed – and in front of Summer of all beings!

“How can you joke?” I say, my voice still a whisper. “After…after…”

Summer sighs and reaches behind her, attempting to grab the tie of the corset. I watch her struggle, and she throws me an angry look before her fingers catch on the string and undo the tie. She works the string as best she can, until the corset loosens, and she can slide it off her body. She takes a few deep breaths before sitting on the bed, wearing only her stockings and shift.

My gaze snags on her nipples, hard and straining through the fabric. She catches me watching and smiles a slow, coy smile. I take a step back. I need to get out of here, this room is too warm, too small.

My traitorous body won’t turn and run. Instead, it continues to stare at Summer, thinking only of pushing her onto the bed to resume the kiss. My body thrums, alive and sensitive, every nerve pulsing with need.

“It’s okay,” she says softly.

“Is it?” I ask. I cannot keep the hysteria from my voice.

“It is,” Summer says, and pats the spot next to her on the bed. I instead collapse into the chair she’d been gripping just moments ago, while my fingers were deep in her. The memory only makes me more agitated, a reminder of what I’d just done. Again.

“Humans are not as…puritanical as your species,” she says.

“Puritanical?” I ask. I’m not familiar with the word.

“It’s a group of religious zealots who sailed to America because they were too conservative for their…never mind. The point is, those of us who grew up on Earth, we haven’t abided by this system in centuries.”

“This system?” Why am I unable to form any sentence that isn’t an echo of what she just said?

“Look, there’s a theory – cultures that hide natural things like sex turn them into something that’s shameful, instead of something to be celebrated. In any other circumstance, a casual thing like this would be normal. No one would care,” Summer continues.

“You mean a circumstance where you weren’t engaged to my brother?” I ask.

Summer sighs. “Am I engaged to your brother? Or did your parents just flaunt their wealth and buy me to force him under their thumb? I’m getting out of here once the plan is settled. I won’t tell anyone about this, whether it happens once or multiple times. Humans call this a fling.”

A fling. The casual way she talks about what just happened, as though she’s done it plenty of times before, makes my stomach flip unpleasantly. Protegre is a school for human women, did she have these flings there too?

“So, you’ve done this before,” I say.

“Well,” she starts, a blush creeping up her neck. “Not really. I mean, I’ve been with someone else before, but…I don’t make a habit of it. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just that…” She trails off, her gaze suddenly far away. Is she thinking of someone else? My stomach flips again, and I want to get out of this room.

I stand suddenly, and she stands too. We stare across the small space, neither moving, neither speaking. The way she looks at me…I want to cross the distance to her, I want to kiss her again, I want so many things.

She must read this on my face because she steps toward me, slowly, as though I am a flighty glidesale. She stops when we are just a breath away, her head tilted back to look up at me.

“I this was a mistake, say it,” she says softly. “Say it was a mistake and we’ll leave it at that. You can walk out of this room and tomorrow it will be as though it never happened.”