He dropped the burger and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and when he kissed me, he tasted like the thousand island dressing they’d put on his hamburger and a little like onions. It didn’t matter. His lips were both soft and scratchy when he pressed them against mine and his hand was firm on the back of my neck, providing an anchor I hadn’t realized I’d needed until that moment.
“Anytime is a good time to tell me that,” he said against my lips.
We pulled apart when Etta started kicking the back of the seat, then ate our dinners quickly. The drive back to the house seemed like it took two hours, and getting Etta to sleep once we got there took another thirty minutes. Eventually, though, I ended up in the middle of Trevor’s bedroom, practically shaking as he stripped my shirt over my head.
“We should really talk things through,” Trevor said, his hands shaking as he slid them down my arms then up my sides. “That would be the wise thing to do.” He was staring at my torso, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself. “But if I’m not inside you soon, I might completely lose it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to lose it,” I teased softly, reaching forward to tug at the hem of his T-shirt.
“See, you’re joking,” he said, stripping his shirt over his head. “While I stand here, afraid I’m going to pass out.”
I laughed at his earnest expression.
“I’m not kidding,” he said, yanking open the front of my jeans. “It’s been too goddamn long.”
“So what are you waiting for?” I asked as I pushed the pants over my hips.
“I’m trying to savor the moment,” he replied, ditching his own jeans and boxers all at once.
“Can we savor it afterward?” I asked hopefully.
With a growl he leaned forward and threw me over his shoulder, making me laugh hysterically as he stomped toward the bed and tossed me onto it. Before he could even put a knee to the mattress, I was pulling my underwear off and flinging them away. I reached back to unhook my bra, but by the time I could peel it off, his mouth was already on me through the lace, making me groan.
“I’m going to trace your tattoo with my tongue,” he mumbled, his lips tracing a path down my belly. “Eventually.”
His lips pressed against me and my legs dropped shamelessly wide as I gasped for breath. The lips that felt so good against my own felt infinitely better when they were manipulating the skin between my thighs. I was racing toward the edge, my fingers digging into the comforter beneath me and my eyes clenched tightly shut when his mouth slid away.
“Someday we won’t need these,” he said as my eyes popped open. He was rolling a condom on to his erection while his mouth traced patterns on my inner thigh. “But for now, we’ll be careful.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He crawled up my body and pressed his lips gently to mine. “And someday you won’t thank me for taking care of you,” he said seriously, his words so gentle they made my nose sting with unshed tears. “You’ll just expect it.”
Then, slowly and reverently, he slid inside.
We didn’t switch positions or race to the finish line. The first time he was inside me had been frantic, but this time was slow and steady, almost in time to the rain we could hear splashing onto the roof. When I came, it settled over me like a warm blanket, turning my bones to jelly. And when he finished close behind me, I watched through half-closed eyes as his face went slack with pleasure.
Together, we rolled to the side and I snuggled in close as he pulled the blankets up and over us.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, sighing as he pulled me even closer. “It actually gets better.”
“I didn’t think it was possible,” I replied in wonder, staring at the ceiling.
“Hell, neither did I.”
He started to chuckle and the sound was so infectious that I did, too.
“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips against my forehead.
“I love you, too,” I replied, a little nervous even though I’d already said it to him before.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he murmured, running his hand lightly up and down my spine. “I just assumed that they’d skip dinner this week since my mom is still pissed at me. I wouldn’t have brought you there if I’d known they were going to cause problems.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Still.” He paused. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with that.”
“They’re your family, Trev,” I said gently. “It was bound to happen at some point.”
“Not if I can help it.”
I leaned up on my elbow and looked into his eyes, easily reading the worry there. He’d fought with his mom, the person he’d confessed more than once was the closest person to him in the world, and he was worried how I felt. It boggled my mind.