“I walked out of the room for a second to get another drink.” Drake stops and we face each other. He releases my hand and his fingers skim my cheek. I fight off the urge to kiss his palm and pull his arms around my waist. And I don’t need to fight the urge any longer because he makes a move.
He drops his hands from my face, staring deep into my eyes and slides them down to my waist. He grips the fabric on my tank-top tightly and yanks me forward until our bodies are pressed against each other’s. He brushes his lips against mine and it’s amazing how such a soft kiss can unravel me. I’m an orange and he’s peeling away my layer of skin.
“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And I don’t have to tell him twice. He envelopes me in his arms and his mouth hovers over mine. His lips move in a frenzy and his tongue slips over mine. He clutches the fabric of my tank-top, gripping the thin cotton tightly as he grazes my bottom lip with his teeth.
At the moment, all I can think about how bad I want him to do more. The kissing is not enough. It’s just a portion of him. He’s like a chocolate chip cookie. I can’t just have one. I want five, six, or seven. I want all of him. I need all of him. And I want to give him all of me.
Maybe this seems silly. It seems silly that I’m willing to toss away my virtue like this, something I’ve kept sacred my entire life. But as I pull out of the kiss and brush his blond bangs away from his face, gazing into his baby blues, I can’t imagine sharing this part of myself with anyone else. I’ve obsessed over Drake for the last three years. I’ve never let another guy squash the fire he ignites inside of me.
Then I make the second reckless move I’ve made on my summer vacation. I shove him away and he stumbles backwards startled, mouth gaping, eyes wide. “What’s gotten into you kid?”
I want to say, you. You have gotten into my head, my mind, and my heart. You have infected my soul with a burning desire that I can’t put out. But I don’t say any of that. Instead I shove him again, a fierce passionate look in my eyes and he falls backwards, his butt skimming the wet sand. I straddle him and he clutches my shoulder, staring up at me, captivated by my spontaneous gesture.
For a moment neither one of us moves. We’re mesmerized, swimming in each other’s gazes. Slowly Drake slides his fingers up my waist, locking my hips against his. Then he sits up, still staring, not breaking his focus. There’s sand all over his arms and the rough texture scratches against my burnt skin, making it feel raw.
He glides a free hand up my spine and I shiver as my shirt slides up and I feel his moist fingers against my back. He gently pulls the hair tie from my hair and my shoulders are covered in waves of chocolate cherry locks. “I want you,” he whispers. “I want you bad.”
And I want him. Oh how I’ve wanted him. For years and years and years. And this moment seems a little surreal to me. That finally, after all this time I finally get what I’ve wanted. What I’ve coveted. What I’ve adored.
I twist the thick straps of his wife-beater around my forefingers and urge his lips closer to mine with each tug. He’s so close his warm breath trails along my cheek bones and heats my face. His lips are so close and if I move an inch mine will touch his. “You do something crazy to me, kid.”
And he does something crazy to me too. I’m a nut job in a mental institution. Clearly incapable of functioning normally and Drake is the orderly he comes to me every morning to deliver my pills. Without him I’ll be crazy forever. Only he is capable of getting rid of the insanity because he is the cure to it.
~12~
Why am I afraid to lose you when you're not even mine?
~Author Unknown~
We’ve been making out for what feels like years, but I want to stay like this forever. Our limbs entwined. Mouths touching. Body heat blazing. Heavy breathing. My heart thumps so loud that in between our raspy breaths I hear it in my ears, drowning out the sound of the ocean.
And Whitney’s voice. “Ummm Robin?”
For a second I’m almost convinced that I’m hearing things all-together until her voice sounds off again. “Robin!”
A throbbing ache pulsates in my lips as I pull away from Drake and glare at Whit, annoyed. “What is it?” I ask in a snarky tone. Why is she doing this? She knows how I feel about him. She knows that I’ve been waiting years for him. “This better be important.”
Her eyes flash to Drake. She gives him a hard look then her gaze softens when she looks back at me. “Come here, please.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something, Whit.”
“This is important,” she says sternly. “I need to talk to you.”
I stare at Drake for a moment then ease up off of him. “Don’t go,” he says.
I sigh and walk towards Whit. “This will only take a second, I promise.”
Whit flashes Drake another hard look over my shoulder and leans close to my ear. “You need to stay away from him.”
I jolt back slightly, baffled. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I heard you, but what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense. You know how I feel about him.” I keep my voice hushed, hoping that Drake can’t hear all, if any of our conversation. Glancing coyly over my shoulder our eyes lock and a soft smile tugs at his lips.
Whit slaps my shoulder and I face her. “Exactly, which is why I’m doing what BF’s do. I’m warning you beforehand so that you don’t get hurt.”
I narrow my eyes and jam my fists into my hip. “Did Elliot put you up to this?” Standing on my tip toes, I try to catch a glimpse of him, thinking that he might be lurking behind her somewhere.