Page 80 of Someone Like Me
“But I want—”
He silences me with another kiss and a firmer press of his thigh.
For a moment, all I know is his touch, the feel of him against me. But my awareness, my experience of pleasure circles back to wanting to give it to him. And if, for right now, I’m only allowed to touch his back, I can work with that.
His muscles on either side of his spine shift beneath my palms as he moves with subtle grace against me. I feel the heave of his breath through his ribs. I paint him with my touch, learning his terrain, feeling the sheer strength of him. And then I move to trace it all over again, but this time with the light scrape of my nails.
A deep, throaty growl rumbles from him, and his mouth slides to my jawline. Teeth close gently around my right earlobe.
“God, you feel amazing,” he whispers. The hot fog of his breath sends chills down my neck.
“I want to make you feel good,” I confess. I don’t tell him it’s something I need. What I feel for him is too big to manage any other way.
He kisses my neck, and my thoughts unravel for untold minutes. Then I move my mouth to his neck, wanting him to know how this feels, and I taste salt and man.
He even tastes sexy. How is that possible?
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much pleasure. I want to live fully in this moment, but even as we are in the throes of discovering each other, I know this is Drew. And at some point soon, in a few seconds or a few hours, he’s going to pull away and bring up that wall of his.
I have to destroy it. And the only way I can do that is with proof of what we can be together. Proof that he can trust himself with me. Which means I need to give myself to him.
Iwantto give myself to him.
I bring one hand around to his chest and grip the front of his T-shirt as I raise my lips to his ear. “Let’s go upstairs.”
Drew stills, and for a terrifying moment, I think I’ve already spooked him. Panting, he presses his cheek against mine.
“We can’t.”
He’s not pulling away. And I know I’m not imagining the regret I hear in his voice. So I try again.
“We can,” I whisper. “I want to.”
Drew’s arms close around me so tight. I don’t think anyone has ever held me this close. I hug him back as tight as I can.
“I shouldn’t tell you how much I like hearing that,” he mutters against my neck, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m not…preparedfor that.”
I can’t help my grin, and I turn my smile against his ear, trace the shell of it with the tip of my tongue. He shivers. “I think there’s something pressing into my belly that says otherwise.”
I feel his rasping laugh throughout my whole body. But instead of throwing me over his shoulder like I want him to, he draws back just enough to look me in the eye.
The smile is still there, but it’s wary. “Evie, baby, it’s not safe.”
I blink. Where else could I be safer than with him? “Why not?”
His brows lower, and his smile turns jaded. “Babe, I’ve been in prison.”
I watch him for a second. Then my eyes bug. “Oh my God.” I place my hand on his cheek. “Are you — Are you okay? Do you have an—” I stop, unable to make myself saySTD.Not because I’m squeamish, but because I know admitting it would be painful. Because someone in prison must have hurt him.
He grips me by the shoulders and looks me dead in the eyes. “I know I don’t HIV, Hep C, or TB. They test you a month before you get out,” he says, and as the meaning of his alphabet soup sinks in, I let go a sigh of relief for him.
“Thank God,” I say, more thankful about this news than maybe any other I’ve ever heard in my life. “Well, then… we can—”
“No.” Drew shakes his head, and his stoneface is back. “No condoms. We can’t.”
I grip his shirt harder. “But I’m on the pill and you just said—”
He raises a brow and aims a stern glare at me. “I said I didn’t have the deadly shit. I didn’t say I didn’t have shit.” His smokey eyes blaze. “And I’m not letting any shit that touched me touch you.”
