“I don’t know, it could be that you wanted to distract me from how bad you thought it was with an amazing kiss.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Amazing?”
I slap his arm. “Yes. But you really liked it?”
“I did. You really got to the point of it, that people deserve to be believed, no matter what. Even though it’s early, I think you got her pain really, really well.”
“Thank you,” I start blushing even though I hate myself for that.
“I love you,” he says. “You’re talented, and beautiful, and I will never understand why you came up to me that day in the snow.”
“I thought you were hot,” I blurt out. “That, and I had been watching you, and I wanted to see what your smile looked like. It’s a good smile.”
“You’re rambling,” he says with that same smile.
“It’s all the adrenaline. Nerves.”
Peter pulls me back up into a sitting position. “This is going to be great. I can’t wait to see it when it’s complete and ready.”
“I’m going to need help,” I say.
He shrugs. “Whatever you need, I got you.”
“Thanks. So while you were reading, I was thinking about whether to place it in the present or the past, and I’m torn, because there’s a bunch of different ways that you could do it, and it would all mean different things, you know?” Peter has leaned in, and is kissing my neck. Specifically, the skin right below my ear that makes me tingle. He knows it too. “Peter I’m trying to focus.”
“I think you’ve focused enough for tonight.”
“There’s so much to do.”
His hands wrap around my hips and pull me sideways. “Remember when you said that you’d take it easy? This is a part of that, knowing when you’ve worked your ass off for a day. And don’t say you didn’t, your mom told me when I got here that you’d been up here finishing that draft all day. That you’d barely stopped to eat.”
I lean my head back against the bed. “Fine, you’re right.” But my head is still spinning with ideas and plans and decisions that could tilt the project in wildly different directions. Even though it hasn’t seemed like it, I have been trying to take it easier. I just don’t really know how. There are things I need to do, and resting seems like a luxury I can’t afford. Not yet. I feel fine. Fainting was a one-time thing.
But if Peter wants me to stop and do…other things the way his lips on my neck suggest, I could do that. I can always work later.
I push myself off the floor and onto the bed, and Peter follows me after shutting the door. My parents won’t open it if it’s shut, and I’m glad. Even though they’re mostly okay with this, as long as we’re safe and here, I wouldn’t want them seeing me in the middle of anything.
The whole at-home thing has been the hard part. My mother weaseled the fact that we’d had sex before I fainted out of me and now she’s adamant that any sex takes place here. A little bit of a mood-killer, but it could be worse. I could have parents who would refuse to let me have sex at all, or at least not acknowledge it.
Peter notices that I’m not paying attention, and grins. “I can get you to stop thinking,” he says.
“Prove it.” I’m still too wrapped up in my head to think of much else. But then he peels his shirt over his head, and my brain goes quiet. Peter has the body of someone who plays sports, and I know he used to, but not since he moved here. He swims and runs and it shows in the effortless lines of his body.
I would love him even if he weren’t perfect, but he is, and he knows how to use that body well. I let him pull off my shirt and bra, and then he lies on top of me. Through his pants, I can feel that he’s hard, and it’s tantalizing. His chest is hard on mine, and his weight presses me down into the mattress. It works, though. My thoughts slow down, my mind becomes calmer, and I let him kiss me. Long and slow and heat slowly climbing up my spine.
“Did you just anxiety blanket me?” I ask with a laugh.
“Are those the heavy ones?” I nod. “Then yes, I did.”
“How did you know?”
He just smiles. “I know you. You get caught up in your ideas and there’s no room for anything else. Sometimes you have to slow down.”
“And you are the solution to that?”
“Not always. Right now? Yes.”
He shuts me up by kissing me again, tongue diving deep inside my mouth, his way of telling me that there isn’t going to me anymore talking for a while. Not about anything other than what are bodies are doing, at any rate.
At some point he sits back and up just far enough to take off his pants and grab a condom. I slither out of my sweats. Most of the time, Peter is a guy who gives in bed. He asks me what I want and gives it to me without hesitation or thought about his own pleasure. But right now he seems to know that I don’t want that. I need what we just had, his weight on me, literally making me slow down.
That’s what I get.
Peter spreads my legs, gently pressing into my entrance before lying down again. We’ve never had sex like this before, and it’s closer and more intimate than anything I’ve felt. Maybe this is what people say when they call it making love. That’s kind of what it feels like.
For a long while, Peter doesn’t even move. We just kiss, and that’s enough. I don’t remember a time when he’s been inside me this long without any movement. It feels like we’re melding together.
It’s a nice feeling, to be so comfortable with someone that just lying with them makes you feel complete. Emotion wells up in my chest, and tears make their way to my eyes. Which is strange, because I almost never cry. It just feels so perfect, that I want to hold onto this feeling.
“Are you okay?” Peter asks, sounding alarmed.
“Yeah,” I say, voice watery. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be one of those girls that cries during sex.”
Peter shakes his head. “You’re not. I’ve never seen you cry, ever. Am I hurting you?”
“No, I just. I love this,” I say, stroking his back. “I love being so comfortable that we can be like this, and it’s perfect. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”
“For good sex and being comfortable? Every person should have that.”
“No,” I say, reaching up and running my hands through his hair. “The fact that I’ve got you. There are people who go their whole lives without finding something like this, and we found it in high school. I’d say that’s pretty damn lucky.”
“Yeah,” he says. “You’re right.”
There’s something hanging in the air, like he wants to say it but he’s unsure. I don’t rush him. Peter’s the quiet one. He takes longer to say things, but he’s sure of himself once he decides to say it,.
He looks away, not meeting my eyes. “You know I’m always going to be there, right?”
I pull his eyes back to mine. “What do you mean?”
Peter swallows. “I mean that you’re it for me. I want to spend my life with you, and I’ll be there for you as long as you let me, and that I hope that that’s forever.”