The Luna

Thirty One

I'm not sure when we reached his room or how I ended up against the door while his hands worked up the back of my dress.

But I'm not complaining.

His fingertips trail against my skin when he finally reaches the zipper, pulling it down.

My breath comes out in pants as his lips find the skin of my shoulders, that he is exposing agonizingly slow. It's delicious torture but only serves to fan the flames that have already ignited. Impatience gnaws at me and I grab his face, pressing my lips to his, pushing him back further into the room.

My dress is loose and I'm very nearly exposed to him, but aside from his shirt that my fingers had been working to untuck, he is still dressed.

It's like he read my mind. His hands moving quickly to undo the buttons, practically ripping the fabric in his haste.

"Someone's eager," I mumble stepping forward to push the shirt off of his tanned skin. My lips find his chest and I leave small kisses up his collar bone to his neck as it falls to the floor.

"And yet you're still dressed," he smirks, grabbing my wrists and moving them through the arms of the dress before letting it drop and pool at my ankles, "That's better," his smile widens like the cat that got the canary before our lips meet again in a searing kiss.

Every cliche I had ever laughed at in romance novels seemed to happen all at once. Time slowed down and the entire room disappears around us. We could have been in a barn that was burning down around us and neither of us would have noticed.

* 

Sweat clings to my skin as I stare at Austin's ceiling. Memories of everything we had just done circle my mind, my body still tingling in the best possible ways. I don't know how long he had laid beside me before excusing himself to the bathroom.

The cloud of lust has lifted as he and I both worked to get the tension resolved between us, but now I don't know where we stand. I am an adult and together he and I made an adult choice. There doesn't need to be strings or even a moment to define the relationship despite what my heart is asking for.

He made me no promises and I was under no illusions as to where this would lead us. But I don't know where to go now. Do I wait for him to come back - to have some sort of awkward after the talk?

Thanks for the memories but I'm gonna go.

I'm not even sure it would be awkward at all, but it feels kind of weird to lie here naked on his bed alone and wait without really knowing. I sit up, pulling the blanket with me to keep my chest covered as I search the ground for my dress. At this point, I would even settle for one of his T-shirts, Just something that would cover my nakedness because no matter what happens next, I think being clothed would be a good thing.

I hear the bathroom door open behind me and I freeze, feeling like I got caught doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. I take a deep breath trying to decide if I should stand so I can wrap the blanket around me like a burrito or if I should ask him for a shirt.

The bed dips behind me and I nearly gasp when I feel his fingers on me, his thumb gently moving over my shoulder blades. My heart picks up and my mouth drops open as my mind completely blanks out. How can just a touch elicit such a reaction from me?

"Wild horses?" I can hear the question in his voice as he reads the cursive words that I have hidden on my skin. He moves closer until his front is pressed flush against my back, his face practically in my neck.

Goosebumps rose on the flesh of my neck where his breath touches and a shiver moves up my spine as I find myself leaning back into him.

"It's something my mom used to say," the words moving past my lips before he can even ask a question.