This tiny voice in my head screamed "Slow down!" but it was so small and so faint that I could barely hear it and I didn't want to. All I felt was Rafe's mouth on mine, his arms around me, his body against me, and I didn't care about anything else. It was like jumping from a cliff, a terrifying, exhilarating, mind-blowing rush, and I didn't want it to end, didn't care where it led, only wanted to follow.
I could feel his heart beating, and I could hear it, pounding. I even swore I could smell him, just him. The world seemed to spin and fade, and I drifted in and out, and that voice kept saying that something was wrong, something was very wrong, but I didn't care.
One minute we were sitting up, making out. The next we were lying on the roof, and I was on top of him, and I didn't know how I got there. I was kissing him and then, all of a sudden, I wasn't. He was holding my face in his hands, poised above his, as he panted softly, his pupils so huge I could drown in them.
"Hate to ask," he said, struggling for breath. "How much did you drink?"
"Nothing. Just Coke."
"Oh."
He held me there another moment, searching my gaze, his breath coming in soft puffs, fingers in my hair, looking like he was struggling to hold me there, away from him. I strained against his hands, and he said, "Okay," hesitantly, like he wasn't sure it was okay. Then he kissed me again deep and hard, like he didn't care if it was okay.
I could feel his heart beating, and I could hear it, pounding. I even swore I could smell him, just him. The world seemed to spin and fade, and I drifted in and out, and that voice kept saying that something was wrong, something was very wrong, but I didn't care.
One minute we were sitting up, making out. The next we were lying on the roof, and I was on top of him, and I didn't know how I got there. I was kissing him and then, all of a sudden, I wasn't. He was holding my face in his hands, poised above his, as he panted softly, his pupils so huge I could drown in them.
"Hate to ask," he said, struggling for breath. "How much did you drink?"
"Nothing. Just Coke."
"Oh."
He held me there another moment, searching my gaze, his breath coming in soft puffs, fingers in my hair, looking like he was struggling to hold me there, away from him. I strained against his hands, and he said, "Okay," hesitantly, like he wasn't sure it was okay. Then he kissed me again deep and hard, like he didn't care if it was okay.
( Kelley Armstrong )
[ The Gathering ]
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