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“Yeah,” I say, still not moving. “Except…” I reach up slowly, pulling the blanket down from her face, exposing her mouth. Gone is the bright red lipstick I’m used to seeing her in. All that remains is her perfectly pink lips, the bottom one pulled between her teeth. “Except I think I’d like to kiss you one more time before we have to deal with all that.”
I lean in, not waiting for her permission, because now I know she wants to kiss me too. I capture her mouth, immediately parting her lips, lapping at her tongue with mine. Her hands press into the bare skin of my chest, fingers cold but I don’t mind. I barely register the shock. I’m too far gone in this kiss to care.
Tempting fate, I press her legs open with my knee, tangling our legs together. My arms wrap around her more completely as her hands travel upward, threading through the hair at the base of my neck. I roll her on top of me, her legs coming to rest on either side of my hips. I grip her thighs, pulling her down into me, over and over again. Even through the thick fabric of her sweatpants, I can feel her curves and warmth.
Willette sits upright, her weight shifting back as I feel a delicious pressure against my hardening dick. She looks down at me, running her hand over my bare chest. Even enveloped in a few layers of clothing, her hair a mess, she’s beautiful. Her eyes trace over me, up my throat and face until they meet mine. There’s an expression in hers I can’t quite read, some distant emotion suppressed by desire.
“What is it?” I whisper. It’s just us, no one can hear us. But still, my voice is low, as if raising it will break the trance in this dim room.
“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe we’re kissing.”
I smile. “But you like it, right?” I slip my hand underneath the layers of fabric covering her, my fingertips connecting with her stomach just below her bellybutton. Will sucks in a breath at my touch, her hips bearing down.
“I like it,” she says.
“Well then, come back down here,” I urge. Every part of me is needful, wanting.
But she doesn’t listen to me. Instead, she reaches for the edge of her shirt, slowly pulling it up. The soft, porcelain skin of her abdomen comes into view. All at once, the shirt is up and over, and she tosses it to the floor. She’s wearing a little black sports bra, her arms instinctively starting to come around her middle, like she’s trying to cover back up.
“What are you doing?” I ask. I reach for her hands, threading them into mine and bringing them away from her body.
“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes darting away.
“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask, hoping she’s not.
“No,” she says. “Well, yes and no. I don’t know, I’m always self-conscious.”
I sigh inwardly. That’s so sad to me. I don’t have any other words for it, so I say as much. “That makes me sad.”
“I’m sure you’re used to being around much more confident women,” she says.
“What? No, it’s not about that,” I say. “You’re beautiful, Willette. Like, really beautiful. And it makes me sad that you don’t know it.”
I watch the muscles of her throat work as she swallows against emotion. “Really?” she asks, her voice nearly cracking.
“Of course really,” I say.
She finally leans back down, pressing her chest to mine. The warmth of her skin is intoxicating.
“I guess you’re not cold anymore,” I tease.
She shakes her head at me, right before connecting her lips with mine again.
I FALL APART
WILL
After another painfully delicious make-out session with Derek, we both managed—with a great deal of reluctance—to get dressed and check the local news and weather from our phones.
It turns out the region was hit with a freak snow and ice storm overnight, knocking out power to most of the city. They’re predicting most people will be going roughly twenty-four to forty-eight hours before it’s back on.Great.
“Well, I think the smart thing to do is minimize opening the fridge, and then later, if the power isn’t on, we can pack the more important items into coolers with some of the ice and snow outside,” Derek says.
“Since when are you a survival guide?” I tease.
“Umm, excuse me? Are you forgetting I was in Boy Scouts?” he asks.
“No way, I loved you in those little shorts,” I say, laughing.
