I wake up thirsty, one of the meds’ lovelier side effects. Todd’s curled around me. I de-spoon and go for water. Once I’m back in bed, he’s sitting up and the light’s on.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. We’ve lived in the same building across the hall from each other our entire lives so Todd using his key when my Dad’s away for work is routine. But even in light of recent developments, late-night cuddling is a new thing.
“Margo’s date is overstaying his welcome.”
“What’s he like?”
He shrugs. “I don’t pay attention to my mother’s boyfriends.”
“Oh, please. You know every detail.”
“His name’s Bruce. He’s a real charmer if you like greasy comb-overs and pork rind-scented farts.” He shifts to his side, resuming the position. I know his change the subject face when I see it.
“God, I can’t believe you’re wearing flannel pants. It’s, like, seventy degrees in here,” I say.
“You don’t like my loungewear?” He snuggles close. “I can take them off.”
I laugh. “Is this where you get all very special episode on me?”
“You don’t think about it?” he asks, kissing my neck.
Sex? Only constantly. Especially after making out until our lips swell and we’re tangled, the soft parts of me rocking against the hard parts of him. But it? That’s a scary line to cross. One we might not survive.
“Let’s not go there,” I say.
Todd pulls the covers back. Gently pushes up my sleepshirt. Moves lower until his lips find a ticklish spot under my ribs.
“Can we go here?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, shaky. He finds more places that make me shiver, humming with each kiss like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. Goes lower still.
We’ve never done this.
I’ve never had it done to me.
I want it bad, though.
So, so bad.
I wriggle out of my underwear, trying to make things easier, but my knee clips the side of his head.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Points for enthusiasm, though.” He half-groans, half-laughs, rubbing the spot where a knee-shaped bruise will likely form.
“Wow. This isn’t awkward at all,” I say.
“Hey, it’s all good. At least I hope it’ll be.” He smiles and he’s back between my legs and all the air leaves my lungs. “Maybe,” he says, hooking his arms around my thighs, “I should hold on.”
When I was fourteen, I realized people actually did what I fantasized about. I figured it was like touching myself, which I was pretty good at, much better than the fumble-fingered guys who’d felt me up. Then I overheard a Junior in gym class say it was the best evar, that she saw stars when her boyfriend went down on her. Bullshit, I thought.
She wasn’t lying.
Todd’s mouth lights me up. Everything tingles, radiates from the center out and back, over and over, as his kiss slides up and down and in me. My skin prickles and I squirm like I’m shimmying out of it. I’m not even aware of how much I’ve flailed until his mouth moves away.
“Piper, come back here,” he says, quietly.
I scoot down from the headboard I’ve pressed against. His grin’s so huge and he’s so beautiful and he’s waiting for me to, like, deliver myself. It practically breaks my brain.
His hands are everywhere. On my boobs and hips and belly and every time I make a noise he moans into me and the vibrations are freaking insane and I make the wonderful mistake of looking at him while he’s looking at me and game over.
I come so hard I see those stupid stars again.
Todd moves back to where he started. He’s flushed, brown eyes turned-on glassy. I press my mouth against his until his lips part and our tongues touch. I taste him and me and I shudder, still electric everywhere.
I break away. There’s so much I want to say, so much I probably should say, but I don’t want to ruin this.
I roll over, he folds himself around me, and I turn out the light.