Thea pulls her phone from her pocket and then looks at me. “Because in two minutes, it’ll be midnight, and I really want a New Year’s kiss from you.”
Here’s my chance to be as open and honest with her as I can. “I don’t need to be drunk to kiss you, Thea.”
“In about ninety seconds, I’m going to need you to prove it.” Thea moves closer to me and places her hand on my back. She takes a sip of her beer and sets the cup down onto the ground. I do the same. If I’m going to kiss her, I want both hands free.
From inside the house, the countdown starts. I step forward, leaving no space between us. My hand cups her cheek, and my thumb brushes over her lower lip. When the count gets to five, I lean toward her. “Three, two.” On one, my lips press to hers. Thea opens her mouth, inviting me in. She’s hungry and wants what I can give her. When our tongues meet, it’s like an explosion goes off. Everything around me feels heightened, and the sensation makes me pull away.
“Happy New Year, Thea.”
“Take me home, Ky.”
Not the words I expect to hear from her, but words I heed. I nod, take her hand, and walk us toward our house.
Twenty-One
Thea
Kyler leadsme through the garden and out the side gate of Saul’s house. I’m still a little in shocked at the fact I had the courage to make the first move. No, scratch that, I’m not in shock. It’s the 21stCentury, and times have changed. There is nothing wrong with making the first move, regardless of who you are. If you see something you want, you should do everything you can to get it. And I want Kyler. Since our kiss before Thanksgiving and my break-up with Adam, he’s been on my mind twenty-four-seven. So, with a little Dutch courage I made my intentions clear. Four years ago, I’d never dream of doing something like that. Fifteen-year-old me is patting nineteen-year-old me on the back.
Kyler walks toward our house with a sense of urgency, and a nervous anticipation courses through me. Our kiss at the stroke of midnight was just the tip of the iceberg. We’ve been tip-toeing around each other for too long. The looks across the kitchen and the yearning to gravitate toward each other have contributed to the sexual tension between us. It’s an electric charge, crackling with a desire to spark. An aching need starts in my chest and slowly takes over my body, one which can only be satisfied by his touch. It’s the feeling of not being in control but not being fearful either, because I want to lose control with him. I want us to free-fall together into whatever we decide we want to be. Kyler told me earlier he doesn’t need to be drunk to kiss me, so I know my feelings are reciprocated. This knowledge just adds to the anticipation of what’s to come . . . of what will happen as soon as we find ourselves alone in the house we share.
It takes very little time to walk from Saul’s place to ours, and my heart thumps out of my chest as Ky unlocks the door and opens it, letting me walk in first. I stand in the pitch-black hallway, my senses on high alert as the door shuts with a soft click. I know he won’t lock it because the others are still at the party, but neither of us moves to one of the rooms. Instead, we stand there, our breathing labored. A few seconds feel like a lifetime in this small, enclosed space. I’m about to say something to break the spell we both seem to be in when I feel him move closer. His hand settles on my waist and the other on my neck as he walks me backward until I feel the wall behind me. There are no words exchanged and no acknowledgment given until I feel his lips press against mine. They’re tentative for only a second until urgency takes over.
Kyler's mouth brushes against mine before his tongue seeks entry, and I readily give it to him. I’ve thought about this moment for a long time, wondering if it would be a replay of our first kiss. Whereas one was an assault, a fight for dominance, this one is not. It’s an outpouring of unsaid feelings. It’s him telling me he wants this as much as I do. It’s him marking himself on me with a combination of tenderness and rawness. There’s a possessiveness in the way he takes control of my mouth, how he presses me against the wall, his body leaning into mine. There’s a sound of desperate need in the way he groans into my mouth, awakening every nerve in my body.
Kyler rips his mouth away from mine suddenly, the need for air taking over and our chests heave together. The reprieve doesn’t last for more than a few seconds before Ky moves in again, this time my neck getting his full attention as he nips and kisses his way down to my shoulder, moving the strap of my top to one side. I bring my hands up and bury them in his hair, hoping to take back some control as I guide him back to my mouth. This time, I attack him with kisses and wanton desire, and I push against him and away from the wall. Our kiss turns into a war for dominance and control. As if tiring from the push and pull, Kyler picks me up with ease, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. The new position shifts the focus to me as I lock onto his body.
Without hesitation, Ky turns around and walks toward the steps. How he manages it in the dark, with his focus solely on me, is impressive. But, he knows his limits, and instead of attempting the climb up to his room, he sets me down on the stairs, and I lie back as he takes a few minutes to catch his breath. In doing so, his eyes rove all over my body. I follow their slow descent from my eyes to my lips, my neck to my chest. He takes his time—time we likely don’t have given the others will be back soon—but I don’t hurry him. Instead, I savor the attention he lavishes on me as if he’s committing every inch to memory. Finally, he brings his eyes back to mine, and they are a black pool of desire; just a sliver of the meadow-green I love so much visible. I see the resolve in them just before he leans in again and takes my mouth with his.
We kiss and kiss as we lose track of time. Ky moves down my neck again, only this time he moves the strap of my top, so it falls off my shoulder. It doesn’t give him the access I need, so I sit up and remove it altogether, leaving me only in my lilac bra. Earlier, I dressed with purpose and give a silent thanks I had the foresight to pick a bra with a front opening. Ky nudges me, so I’m lying back down on the stairs and moves his mouth until he’s sucking my breast through the lace. He bites and teases me, and I arch my back instinctively to give him more access. He rewards me by moving to the other one and pays the same lavish attention to it, all while I’m losing my mind at every touch he makes.
Returning the attention, I move my hand down his body, reaching for the prominent bulge in his pants. He bucks suddenly as my hand makes contact over the thick material of his jeans.
“Fuck, Thea,” he hisses as he buries his head into my neck as he tries to gain control but loses the battle when I start stroking him with purpose.
Our bodies continue to move against each other as we each try to gain the friction we need for release. Ky moves his hand toward the clasp of my bra and with a quick flick of his fingers, snaps it open. He nudges the material aside, freeing my breasts from the lace. He takes no time giving them his undivided attention, sucking, blowing, and gently biting the peaks that have formed. This time, I’m the one moaning into his neck as the ache between my legs builds up to the familiar unbearable-yet-pleasurable climax.
Loud voices outside the front door brings us back to the present with an unwelcome bump, and Kyler quickly stops his ministrations, grabbing my top in doing so and handing it to me as I awkwardly fumble to put it on and protect my dignity. I thank God we had the foresight to leave the lights off. Otherwise, whoever is about to walk through the door would be greeted by an unexpected sight. The front door opens, and Kyler moves to the bottom of the steps, and I instantly miss the warmth of his body on mine. I slowly move up the stairs and out of sight from the others. Whether they pay attention or not, I’m sure it’ll be obvious Ky and I were not talking about the weather while we were by ourselves. Our swollen lips are a testament to that.
Laughter comes through the door before the drunken bodies of our roommates appear.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Nolan attempts to whisper but it comes out as a loud whoosh. “Don’t wanna wake KyKy.” Devon and Jude break into hysterical laughter at this, and I know Kyler will have his hands full dealing with them. I think about going down the stairs to help him, but I’m in no state to do so. Drunk or not, they’ll notice I’ve not exactly been in bed reading, and I’m too worked up to be of any use.
“I’m awake, Nole.” I hear Ky tell him with a laugh. “Holy shit, how many have you had?”
“Waaaaaayyy toooooo maaaannnyyyyyy,” Jude drawls, which brings more laughter from the others.
“Okay, let’s get you some water,” Kyler tells them.
“You’re so good to us, Sandman. Saaaandmannnnn!”
As my inebriated roommates start chanting Kyler’s nickname, I decide not to hang around any longer. Instead, I make my way to Ky’s room, where I sit and wait for him.
After what feels like a lifetime later, Kyler opens the door and quietly walks in.
“That took longer than I thought,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. I crawl over and kneel behind him. Leaning down, I kiss the back of his neck, hoping we can pick up from where we were interrupted. It’s not as if the other three are sober enough to realize what’s going on behind closed doors. Ky drops his head forward, and I continue kissing his neck and shoulders over his shirt. Needing more access, I drop my hands to the hem and tug the material upwards, hoping he’ll take the hint, but instead, Ky’s body tenses, and his hands settle on mine, preventing them from moving any further.
“Thea, wait.”