We watch more of this Marvel Universe. There are a lot of movies. I doubt we will get through them today and tomorrow. However, it is part of Conner that I understand. And watching something he loves while we eat the rest of the cold pizza makes me love the movies, too.
I tuck my legs up, leaning against Conner. His fingers drag across my flesh. Not once does he look at me with disgust or disturbance. What we have is more than skin and bones.
47
OUR DREAM
We areat the doors of our bedrooms. He opens his door first while I am still at mine, unsure of what I want to do. Should I ask if we’re sleeping together? Do I want to sleep with him yet?
Since our conversation at Mrs Crawford’s house, I don’t need to rush anything. I’m content. But is he?
We had a day where we relaxed, watched movies, talked, and ate pizza, but did he want something more?
“Goodnight, Noya,” he says.
I blush and murmur, “Night, Conner.”
I head into the room, but I hesitate. This isn’t like that broken home. I don’t need to cower in bed, waiting for the storm to hit, and I don’t need to close the door and lock it. I can leave it open because I’m safe.
Biting my lip, I exhale and close the door. Not yet. I’m not ready to give up that safety net yet.
The sheets are crisp. Conner must have washed them before I came. I stretch my body, letting my bare legs drag against the desirable, comfortable sheets. I let out something that resembles an exhale and a delighted moan of pleasure while sinking into the mattress.
This is the most comfortable bed I’ve been in. I thought sleeping in that tissue box of a room at camp with Samantha was good. This is… it feels like an out-of-body experience.
I lie with my arms tucked under the pillow and my legs spread out as if I’m doing a jumping jack. There is this slight pain—a twinge, but enough for me to bear before the throbbing subsides.
And then I stare at the wall, wondering what Conner is thinking about. If only I could see through the walls to know it would make me?—
A knock taps on my door.
I widen my eyes and sit up quickly. “W-who’s there?” I squeak.
“Noya,” Conner speaks through the other side of the door. “Is it okay if I come in for a moment?”
“Um…” I pull the sheet above my chest. “Okay, you can come in.”
The door opens, and Conner’s figure moves through the room and then sits on the edge of the bed in the darkness. I shuffle so that I’m sitting up. “Is something wrong?”
“Could I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks.
I bite my lip, but I can’t hold in the giggle.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Nothing,” I playfully say. Then, daring, I touch his arm and drag him towards me, murmuring, “Come here.”
Conner leans down on the bed, and his lips find mine. My fingers drag through his hair while his arm keeps him stable and ensures his weight doesn’t crush me.
I taste him on the tip of my tongue. The taste of peppermint from the toothpaste and a hint of ash from his smoking. His aroma intoxicates me, filling me up like helium in a balloon, and I swell with this powerful desire.
And then, when I think we are going further—even after I had that self-monologue of how much I’m content with taking things slow—he stops when I yearn for more.
“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs into my hairline.
I’m glad he stopped. I’m glad when he leaves my room, closing the door behind him. If it were me, I wouldn’t have stopped. I’d give in to my desires, afraid I wouldn’t have another chance. He keeps me grounded in moments of weakness.
I sigh, expelling the lustful things I wanted to do to him.