Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
He searches me, cigarette between his fingers. “I don’t wanna be bad for you.”
I don’t look away from him. “I can’t know everything you’ve been for her, but you’ve only been good to me,” I whisper. “And I might not be exactly who she was, but I’m not trying to become her for you.”
Donnelly almost smiles. “Good thing.” He brings his cigarette to his rising lips. “‘Cause I’ve just wanted the girl in front of me.”
I smile back. “Question is, how willing are you to be with me if it means others saying it’s too soon and a bad idea and not good for me? Because they may say that, and I’m trying to tune them out. Are you?”
He rests a hand on top of my head, bringing me closer to his chest. It’s the most simple, casual form of affection I’ve ever slipped inside, and I burrow against the warmth of his bare skin. Quietly, he breathes, “Other people aren’t gonna stop me from being with you. If this ends, it’s ‘cause you want it to.”
He’s been defaulting to my wants, my desires—and I have been flipflopping since my birthday. Uncertain and scared.
I decide to shove away the outside voices. Listening to what I feel brings more certainty, and that’s the most comforting sentiment.
Pulling back, I tell him, “I don’t want this to end yet.”
Donnelly looks me over again, then nods. “Alright, space babe.” Then he holds out his pinky.
I hook mine with his, both of us grinning. “That is one good earthly promise.”
“Stamp.” He smokes but keeps our pinkies hooked. Then he’s twirling me in a circle, and the seamlessness of the night flows through me. Playing songs on shuffle from his phone, we smoke and dance and laugh in his bedroom while Philadelphia is sound asleep.
“The flying monkey,” I say, showing him my chimp dance moves. I leap at him, and he catches me in a front piggyback. His hands on my ass, only wearing panties beneath the AC/DC tee. Arousal ignites, but next, I groom his hair.
His grin is intoxicating. I want to get drunk off his radiance and joy, and I think about telling him. Would he find me weird? He said he wouldn’t be ashamed of me. He hasn’t been embarrassed by anything I’ve done so far tonight.
“I want to get drunk off you,” I say softly. “Your grins, your face, your being.”
“You’re drinking wisely,” he teases.
“Uh-huh, but not responsibly. I want your face in excess.” I cup his cheeks.
“Girl, you’ve got more than just my face.” His grin is also powerful, illuminating inside me.
“Your ears,” I say, touching his hooped piercing.
“Yours.”
“Your eyebrows.”
“Yours.”
I look down. “Your lips.”
He kisses me, a deeper passionate kiss that tingles and aches. I grip his hair, a whimper in my throat, and his tongue melds so perfectly against my tongue. Pleasured heat swarms me, and in one breath, I say, “My lips.”
He eyes them. “Mine.” He goes in for another devouring kiss, and I’m such a goner in his clutch.
We make out for what could be a century. All we do is kiss, and the needy parts of me want so much more. I’m trying my best to resist.
Donnelly says, “I gotta…” He clears a pent-up noise out of his throat, stepping back from me. Distance is good, yeah, and he’s clearly struggling too. “Smoke break?”
I nod rapidly. “Yeah, that’s good.”
We light another two cigarettes. He opens the window and rests his hand outside on the sill. “She’s beautiful tonight.” I know he’s talking about the city, but I imagine he’s also speaking about me. His eyes are on me as I follow him to the window.
I take another drag and walk, my eyes grazing his room, and I zone in on the floral comforter. I slow to a stop, my pulse spiking.
The pink petals—it jars me into another visual. Floral…wallpaper. The image resurfaces of a different room. I dizzy, my breath shortening.
“Luna?” He straightens up.
“I…” Scuffed floorboards. Where have I seen this place before? I don’t know. I don’t know! I can’t catch my breath, and I must’ve accidentally dropped my cigarette. Donnelly snuffs it out with his bare foot.
I choke out, “Wait, don’t…” Don’t hurt yourself for me. I lower to the ground, gasping for breath and words. I hate this. I hate this.
Donnelly is behind me. “Shit. Luna, Luna.” He’s kneeling, and then we’re sitting. He pulls me between his spread legs and wraps his biceps snug around me, his back against the wall while I lean on his chest and intake ragged breaths. “Luna.” He whispers against my ear that he’s here.
He’s here.
His heart thumps, thumps, thumps rhythmically against me. I concentrate on the tempo, holding onto his strong forearms. Orion tries licking my face, then slouches his body weight against us.
Once my heart rate steadies, I whisper, “The…room.”