He lowered one of my legs, letting me find my footing, and did the other, gradually retreating. It was suddenly too hard to look at him, because I worried I might blurt out something ridiculous and ruin the moment. Instead, I stared at the quick rise and fall of his chest and blinked rapidly, trying to get the emotions swirling inside me under control.
I could feel gravity’s impact on the results of his orgasm, and while the physical sensation was kind of strange, the thought of it was insanely hot. Maybe I was blushing, or had an odd expression on my face, because Macalister grasped my chin with his thumb and forefinger and forced my head up.
“Look at me,” he commanded. “What are you thinking about?”
I swallowed hard, but the answer came because I wanted to do whatever he told me. “That you’re the first guy to come inside me.” My voice was breathless, nervous. “I liked it. And I liked that it was you.”
His fingertips skated over my skin, brushing back the loose wisps of hair off my forehead. His tenderness was startling. “I understand why people tell you their secrets.” His eyes were the color of ice, but they were warm and inviting right now. “You have this power where you make it feel safe. We become the only two people in the world with no one else to tell. When I’m with you, everything outside of that ceases to exist.”
I gasped. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me.
But his face froze and then his expression shuttered. Up went his shields, and he backed away, leaving me with only the wall for support as he pulled up his pants and hurried to dress.
I’d run earlier, and now I was the one chasing him. I launched forward, seized his head in my hands, and jerked him down into a blistering kiss.
We’d both been in love before, and I wondered if it was the same for him when he fell as it had been for me. It wasn’t a sudden, abrupt drop. The realization of it could be, sure. But the actual act happened through a collection of moments. Kisses, and words, and gestures, all building toward the awakening where you could no longer deny what had happened.
This was one of those moments, and I needed him to know that. I channeled all the passion I felt into my kiss, arching up to meet his mouth and reward him for letting his guard down. Everything else in the world stopped for me too when I was with him.
It was frightening being in charge, so when Macalister’s hands grabbed my waist and he took command of the kiss, I sighed in relief. I sensed it was the same for him. We had our roles, and there was comfort in their structure.
“We need to get back,” he said with deep reluctance.
“Yeah.” But it was still hard to part ways.
It took him a lot longer to get his clothes in order than for me. While he refastened the buttons of his braces, I walked to the mirror and stared at the repercussions of letting him take me against the wall.
I was flushed, and a faint sheen of sweat clung to my skin. My hair wasn’t too bad, and I thought he’d done his best to avoid touching it, but I ran my fingertips beneath my eyes to clean up the smudged makeup. My lipstick was gone, completely kissed off, and there was a faint red mark on the side of my neck. Hopefully, people would assume I’d recently scratched it and it was a temporary irritation, and not my boss’s bite mark.
There was a box of tissues at the sewing station, and I grabbed one in a hurry, using it to clean up between my legs, and dropped it in the trash before he made his way over to me.
He was put back together, other than the sweat-darkened temples of his hair, but there was a lightness to him now, as if some of the ice trapping him had thawed. His hand disappeared into his pocket and produced a flash of white lace.
“Would you like these back?” When I nodded, he added, “Ask me.”
He enjoyed playing games, and I did too. “May I have my underwear, please?”
“No.” He was smug as he tucked them back in his pocket. “Perhaps you can earn them back tonight.”
Anticipation crackled through my limbs like lightning.
We both knew it was better to reemerge at the party separately, and I disappeared into the bathroom while Macalister went straight in, mentioning he was going to the bar to get us both a glass of water.
When I’m with you, everything outside of that ceases to exist.
It replayed continuously in my head during the remainder of the party. It was an endless loop during the long, silent car ride to his house, where we sat in the back seat that was filled with delicious tension. We were both working on our phones but occasionally stole glances at each other. I still felt him between my legs in a pleasurable soreness and was eager for more.