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Then I lifted on tiptoes and I stopped listening to my brain.
The world fell away in pieces as I kissed him.
TWENTY-SIX
???
The events that happen to people make them who they are—memories, connections, tragedies.
I had nothing.
I was no one, an empty shell.
All that remained was an endless void of fractured and distorted pieces that I couldn’t grasp or comprehend. Every breath crushed my lungs with tighter and tighter force.
Then Morgan appeared—a beacon of hope so bright it blinded me.
Soft and sure, she pressed her lips against mine. She tasted like sunshine, like honey, like life itself.
The colorful lights of the arcade twisted and blurred. I froze in my descent, disoriented. I had no confidence in my ability to determine up from down, truth from lies. But Morgan? She was undeniable.
Her hands roamed my chest, my arms, her fingers flexing into my skin as she explored. My nerves ignited, my need for her overwhelming everything else.
This is real.Those were the words she’d said to me.This is real.I repeated them to myself again, because it felt too good to be true.
I reached around her, cradling her back, gripping her to me. The soft yellow fabric of her sundress was the thing between my palm and her bare skin. I wanted to tear it away. We were in uncharted territory. I was lost and desperate, and she was my tether. I held onto her with everything that I had left.
I plunged my tongue between her lips, and she rewarded me with a moan. I reached one hand up to her neck, the other down to the swell of her ass, wanting to learn every inch of her and commit those curves to memory. She felt so good, so right in my arms.
Our first kiss had been born of excitement and enthusiasm. This was one of connection, of desperation, of promise. Wordlessly I showed her how lost I was, with rough, caressing crashes of mouths and bodies.
She slipped her hands up my shirt, scraping her nails against my chest and stomach. The heat of her palm rippled across my skin. I twisted my fist in the back of her dress, holding her tighter.
Heart racing, the fog in my brain parted just enough for me to recognize how lost in my fervor for her I was.
I forced myself to pull back. With heavy, ragged breaths between us, I searched her expression for what she might be thinking. Every time we’d grown closer she’d retreated, and I needed to give her a chance now too, to realize this was a mistake.
Instead, she pushed me backward. I let her guide me until I was flush against the side of a Pac-Man arcade cabinet. The private symphony of beeps and whistles surrounding us drowned out any sound beyond this tiny alcove, this dark bubble where only the two of us existed.
Her face mirrored what I felt. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks pink. Her golden eyes flared with need. She was as desperate for this as I was.
She reached for the waistband of my pants, tilted her chin up and nipped my jaw. She whispered against my skin, “What if someone catches us?”
“We’re alone,” I assured her, my voice gruff, as I tried to hold tightly to the tiny thread of composure I still possessed.
I wanted to tear her dress off and run my tongue over every inch of her body. I wanted to sink so deep inside of her it would be impossible to tell where I ended and she began. And I wanted to make her come so hard she’d never leave.
“Good, because even if we weren’t alone,” she said on a raspy breath, “I don’t think I could stop.”
It was all I needed to hear. Reaching under her dress, I grabbed her ass with one hand, feeling the thin fabric of her panties, the lush flesh beneath. If we had all the time in the world, I would savor her. If we weren’t in a public place, I’d rip every bit of fabric from her skin so I could properly worship her the way she deserved.
Instead, I squeezed, memorizing the feel of her ass on my palm. We could work with clothes. We could work with time restraint. When it came to Morgan, I’d take whatever she was willing to give.
I ran my free hand over her dress, up her stomach, relishing the feel of the soft fabric on my fingertips. A quiet moan escaped her lips and she arched her back, leaning into my touch as I found her breast.
She was heavy and full and soft—the perfect handful. But it was the way she reacted to me that drove me wild. With just a touch, her nipples beaded against the fabric of her dress.
Morgan’s eyes fluttered shut and she whispered,“Yes.”
