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The second I think that the fairy tale is now over, he smiles at me. "I bet you're soaked, Sapphire." Our eyes lock together. "Do you want me to check?"
I shake my head, terrified of what he’s going to find there. I never get wet from a kiss, not even from touching. But it feels like my pajama pants are already saturated, and he can feel my arousal through the fabric, but what if I'm not wet? Will that mean I'm really broken?
"Oh, you don't?" He raises an eyebrow, smirking at me. "What if I show you my aching cock first?"
I widen my eyes in surprise at his words, as incapable of speech as if I’ve just swallowed my tongue. Am I going to see Josh totally naked?
I saw Josh at the beach in his swimming trunks, and I always tried to look away because of how gorgeous he is: broad shoulders, tanned skin, eight-pack, and a deep V. His body is the most perfect of any I've ever seen, but I still have never seen him fully naked. And it's hard for me to admit, but I really want to.
"You look like a child going to Disneyland for the first time, Sapphire." He smiles again, exposing his perfectly round teeth.
And it's then that I realize that I am smiling too, anticipating what's coming next.
"I love the way you look at me," he adds and then takes off his T-shirt and throws it on the floor next to the bed.
I hold a breath, looking at him. His body has changed a little since the last time I saw his naked torso. His shoulders have become even wider, his hands are bigger now, and his abs...oh, those abs...it seems like there's not even an inch of fat there, only tight muscles covered with smooth skin.
I bite my lower lip out of desire, exploring his body shamelessly from the bottom to the top and back again. When my eyes finally meet his, I see a slight satisfied smirk on his lips.
He knows how attractive he is, and he likes that I find him attractive too. I can't deny it, not anymore, especially not tonight: Josh Underwood is the most handsome male on Earth, and I want him, all of him, and I want him now.
"It's your turn to take off your top." He smiles wider saying it, grabbing the fabric of my pajama top with his hands from below, but does not pull it up, waiting for my permission.
I place my hands on his, squeezing his fingers and slightly shaking my head. I love the way he looks at me now, but will he look at me that way when he sees me naked?
"That's not fair, Sapphire," he says but doesn't force me to take it off, holding his hands in place. "I want to see you too, all of you. I can't make love to you while you're fully dressed."
Make love to you...The words ring in my head like an echo in the woods.
Why did he use that expression? Does he say this to everyone he sleeps with?
No, I don't want to think about it. I'm done thinking about all those girls Josh Underwood slept with. It's him and me tonight, only us, in the whole world.
"Okay," I whisper before letting his hands go and giving him silent permission to take off my top.
Chapter Eleven
Kendall
For the first time this evening, I'm glad the lights are off. I'm not sure I'd be able to bear the torture of him looking at me naked in the daylight. Yes, he saw me in a one-piece swimming suit, but never in a bikini because I was ashamed to wear it around him.
I'm not a model-type, the kind Josh usually dates. My hips are round, my legs are plump, and I have a couple of stretch marks on my ass and a long, thin scar going from my hip bone to my ribs. Usually, I am not ashamed of my body, but I always was uncomfortable on the beach when Josh was near.
When the top is off, Josh drops it on the floor next to his t-shirt. I expect him to pull closer and kiss me, but he freezes for a second, merely looking at me while I lie still. His gaze travels from my neck to my breasts and then lower to my belly. I fight the urge to hide my body with my hands while he’s exploring it.
"It's here. You still have it," he says before leaning his face to my belly and kissing my scar next to my ribs.
I was injured when I was fourteen years old, falling off a surfboard onto a rock. Josh got me out of the water and helped me to get home, holding me in his arms all the way.
It was the last summer we spent together as friends. The next one, he went to sports camp and stopped talking to me after he returned home.
"I was afraid it would be gone," he whispers, kissing every inch of the scar from my ribs to my hip bone. "I was afraid it would disappear, and you would forget about the day we spent together."
I didn't forget about that day. I think of you each time I look in the mirror and see that scar.
"You saved me, Hazel," I whisper honestly, shivering from those kisses. "I have never forgotten about that, even when I hated you."
He stops kissing me for a second, and I already regret saying it. Why did I mention that I hated him while he’s kissing me? And why did I admit that I don't hate him anymore?
