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21
Dylan
Sky isquiet on the way back to London, and I'm concerned she's not coping again. She denies there's anything wrong, but there's a lot upside down in her life, and I'm not the only one who needs to open up. When I saw her with the meds, and the look on her face, I felt sick. Am I worth the concern on her face when she discovered what I’ve hidden from her? Her understanding and the relief at telling someone surprised me.
But I told her I loved her, and she didn’t reply. This is Sky though. After what I did to her, I suspect I’ll be waiting a long time for her to trust me to say the same. She cares and that’s enough.
I’m distracted too—my first trip to my hometown in years and I’m reminded of the past. I thought I’d only remember the bad, but despite the hollow ache from knowing Mum isn’t there anymore, a lot of the good memories returned too.
Before I collected Sky from the shops, I drove to a spot I’d sit with Jem in our teen past when we drank bad cider, on a wooden bench looking across to the sea. A sadness that I can never return to this past fills me, but no one can return to their past, can they? Eventually, the cold and the pull of Sky take me back to my car and I left.
I’ve allowed a part of my history into my present, which is a good thing.
It’s late when we return to London, after stopping briefly for fast food from the motorway service station on the way back. More of the ordinary with my extraordinary Sky.
She heads for the kitchen as soon as we return and switches on the coffee machine. My obsession with doing more than touching her magnifies with each time we kiss, even the chaste ‘hello’ kiss she gave outside the shops in St Davids. On the way home in the car, the scent of Sky drove me mad, reminding me of the taste and feel of her skin. I’m not sure I can hold out much longer; I need Sky in my bed.
“Stop that.”
I blink out of my thoughts and look to Sky who’s leaning against the kitchen counter. Her pursed lips and accusatory look indicate my thoughts weren’t well hidden.
“Stop what?” I ask with fake innocence.
“Plotting.” A smile flickers across her mouth and desire surges inside further. The banter between us has edged toward teasing innuendos and a fair few are coming from her.
She wants this.
Stepping toward Sky, I brush her hair over a shoulder and run my fingers lightly across a cheek. Our eyes meet in understanding.Iwant this. Sliding my hand behind, I cup Sky’s ass and draw her closer. Sky winds her arms around my neck and trails her tongue along my lip. I groan and claim her mouth, roughly parting her lips and she eagerly tangles tongues. Shifting, I pin her against the counter, and as her hands move under my shirt the desire grows, with a ferocious need overtaking my thoughts.
“I want you, Sky, so fucking much,” I growl, pushing her harder against the counter. There’s no way I can hide the effect she’s having on me; I’m hard and aching for her more than ever before. The last few unbearable days have made the sexual frustration I had in Broadbeach pale into insignificance.
Sky’s answer is another hard kiss, one where our teeth collide and we’re lost in each other. I struggle to hold back, I want to devour every last part of her, because she’s pulling me under and I need to control myself. Desperate for Sky to tell me this is okay I rest my head on hers, our heavy breathing matching.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers.
I grab her by the hips and lift her onto the counter. Without waiting, I push up her cotton shirt, kissing, nipping and licking her heated skin. My Sky’s skin, smoother and softer than in the memories I tried to grasp onto. She wraps a hand into my curls and tugs my head back.
“Not here. Not this time.” I meet her eyes and the want I see reflected burns into me.
I’m dragged back into the exact same memory I’m sure she’s having. The day I couldn’t escape what I wanted any longer after days denying myself. The day I proved I had the control I’m struggling to keep hold of now. “I remember Broadbeach,” I say gruffly and her pupils dilate further as I unbutton her jeans.
“So do I, and you’re not doing that again,” she says, biting her lip coyly.
Does this mean no? Stepping back, I run a hand through my hair. “Shit. Okay.”
“Dylan.…” She drags me toward her by the T-shirt. “I mean you can’t keep your clothes on like you did that night because I want all of you, if you want all of me. But not here. Don’t do this here.”
“That’s good enough for me,” I pull her back off the bench and tip her over my shoulder in the way she loves and hates.
“Caveman,” she giggles.
“I can be as uncivilised or civilised as you want, summer Sky. Up to you.” Her shirt falls forward, revealing the silky smooth skin beneath. I burrow my nose into her side as I carry her toward the bedroom and she wriggles against the sensation. Kicking open the door to my bedroom, I tip her onto the bed.
* * *
Sky
The world falls away.I'm Dylan's Sky, and he's Sky's Dylan, and we exist in our own space. We pull at clothes, nip at skin, and touch as though this is the first time. As we hold each other’s faces, the shared breath between us is hot and intense. The charge beneath our fingers where we touch cheeks, between our lips where they hover so close together, trips the switch on the energy between us and everything floods out.
