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“Why?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, hating the way the cliche sounded.
“I’ve got time.” Sam reached over and trailed a single finger up and down the inside of his forearm. Aero shivered.
“I like that,” he said huskily, and she continued, following the lines of his veins and muscles, up and down, up and down.
“Do you think I could, um,” Sam swallowed hard, bracing herself for his rejection, “touch you? More?”
Aero considered her question. She wanted to touch him. For a moment, he wanted to grin, his skin feeling tight and tingly with anticipation, but a deep-seated fear and apprehension reared their heads, prompting him to question her.
“Where?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.
“Your face?” she suggested randomly.
Aero nodded. That would be okay, he presumed. He thought of having those small, soft hands on his skin again and breathed slowly to calm himself.
“Ready?” Sam asked, and he grasped her wrist gently, guiding it slowly toward his face.
Sam touched her palm to his face, and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.
“Okay?” Sam asked, and he nodded, pressing his cheek into her hand.
It was so good — her soft, warm palm on his skin. It was like silk, slipping over his skin, leaving electricity in its wake.
“Can I move my hand?” Sam wanted to push farther, to take more, but held back so as not to upset him.
“Yes,” Aero consented, breathing deeply and focusing on the feel of her rather than the tendril of fear that threatened to wrap around him and ruin the moment.
“I’m gonna move down your neck,” Sam said, assuming the warning would help him.
Aero nodded stiffly.
Slowly, Sam slid her hand over his jaw and stroked her fingertips down his neck until she found where his pulse beat wildly. He was struggling; she knew it, but he was trusting her. The knowledge made her smile, giving her hope.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” she whispered, sliding her fingertips beneath the collar of his shirt.
“It’s okay,” he said, still holding her wrist but letting her fingertips explore.
“Aero?” Sam said his name, her voice raspy with excitement.
“Hmm?”
“Why are you like this?” Sam asked, regretting the words as soon as she said them.
Aero snapped to attention, pulling back from her and staring at her with wide green eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Sam rushed out, shame making her face flush. “I didn’t mean that, I just—”
Aero cut her off. “I’ve had some, ah, experiences that have affected me.”
He couldn’t tell her, not so soon. Blaze, his therapist, and the government were the only ones who knew the truth. Sam didn’t need that in her head.
“I understand,” Sam said, eyes downcast. She reminded him of a wilted flower, and he didn’t like that. She’d blossomed for him, sharing herself with him and giving him intimacy he hadn’t experienced in years, but he’d made her regret it. He felt like an asshole.
“Sam,” he said her name gently, and she glanced up. “It’s not you. I promise.”
Sam nodded, not meeting his eyes.
