Page 43 of Z For Butterfly Man
I’ve never been kissed before, but I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring all my love and need into it. When he pulls away, I’m lost for breath, and his lips, the most beautiful lips I’ve ever seen, are red and swollen.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes against my lips, “you know that?”
No words form in my brain. I’m somewhere else, and I never want to come back.
“This has to be our secret,” he whispers again. “No one can ever know. If anyone finds out, I’m fucked. The club will kick me out, and I’ll go to fucking jail. You understand? You gotta promise me. No one can ever know, baby.”
I nod quickly although I don’t care what they say. Our love isn’t sick, not to me. If people think it’s fucked up, so be it. They’ve never lifted a finger when all the other fucked up shit was happening right under their noses, why would they now? “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“Good girl. My good girl.” He kisses me again, softer this time.
Another cough breaks me in half. “I’m sorry. You’re going to get sick now.”
“Don’t give a shit, baby. Let me take care of you. You’re still burning up, and that cough ain’t good.” He reaches for a jar on the nightstand. “Someone used this on you?”
I check the medicine. It’s mentholated cream. “Not that I know of.” I sniff at my chest. “It doesn’t smell like it.”
“Good. Don’t let any guy touch you like that, even Doc.”
“I won’t. O-only you.”
The blue in his eyes flames. They travel down my shirt. His teeth spear his lip. “Damn right. Only me.” He unbuttons my shirt, his breath growing louder with each button. Then he slides it off my shoulder. “This will help with the congestion,” he murmurs, scooping some of the medicine with his fingers.
“Yes,” I barely whisper.
He starts rubbing the cream onto my chest in careful circles. I tremble at the feeling of his touch. My heart skitters.Goosebumps cover my skin. My boobs rise and fall rapidly, and my nipples tighten against the fabric of my bra.
“Relax, baby.” He can’t take his eyes off my breasts. “Fuck, you drivin’ me crazy like that.”
“I’m sorry. I… I don’t know… What am I doing wrong?”
“You don’t even understand…” His free hand rubs over his mouth, and he chuckles. “You ain’t doing nothing wrong. I am. But the way your body reacts to my touch, baby,” his fingers trail lower, brushing just above the edge of my bra, “ain’t helping me stop.”
I don’t want him to stop.
The heat from his hand slides inside my bra cup. I gasp, and my nipple juts tighter. He brushes a thumb over it and grinds a curse through his teeth.
A strange tingling spreads through my body and pools low in my belly. “Shane,” I say between gasps, “something...something is happening. It’s different from the fever. It feels strange…down there.”
Understanding flickers across his face, and the blue flames intensify. His hand slides from my chest to my stomach, then lower, resting just above the waistband of my jeans.
“Here?” His voice is rough. “Lower?”
I nod, my breath hitching, embarrassment flooding me.
“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s how it’s supposed to feel when you want someone.” His fingers toy with the button of my jeans. “But it can get a little painful if it ain’t taken care of. Want me to make it better?”
“Yes please.”
He unbuttons my jeans and slides the zipper down. The cream-free palm slips beneath the fabric, over my underwear, then inside. When his fingers press against me, I gasp.
“Don’t be afraid, baby girl. You trust me?”
I nod.
“Good girl. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”
His finger rubs and circles and presses against me, and the foreign heat builds and builds until I can barely breathe. My body arches off the bed, chasing the sensation, and Shane’s other hand cups my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “So fucking wet for me. So fucking beautiful.”
