This Summer Will Be Different(40)

“I like to be prepared,” he said, seeing my expression. He lowered his pants, dropping them onto the floor. He stood naked before me, skin glowing silver in the moonlight.

My throat went dry at the sight of him. The totality of Felix shirtless was so extravagant that I might have laughed if I didn’t want to touch every part of him. His shoulders were obnoxious—sculpted with intent, or at least I assumed so. I didn’t think you could look the way Felix did without putting in time at the gym. But he was muscular in less obvious places, too. The space beneath his armpits on either side of his chest was built up, like a pair of sexy wings might reside there. And he had those twin lines that ran on diagonals above his pelvis.

I reached for his hand, and he climbed over me, bending to my chest, seeming to get lost there. I wiggled beneath him, wanting him now. In whispered pleas, I told him so. He rose to his knees between my legs, rolling on the condom, eyes on me.

“Sit up for a sec,” he said, and I did what I was told, lifting myself onto my elbows as Felix, one by one, unfastened the elastics around my braids and raked his fingers through my hair.

I lay back, hair spilling across the pillow, eyes not leaving his. Cloaked in midnight, he surveyed me, swallowing once, and in that moment, I felt a shift. The charge was still there, but instead of sparking and sizzling, it was heavier somehow. Felix smoothed a palm down my side. He tugged my hips closer, until he was nudged against me, and he lowered himself onto his forearms until our noses were almost touching.

“I forgot how good this felt,” I told him.

He pressed his lips to mine, once. “I didn’t.”

We stared at each other, and time seemed to stop.

“Don’t fall in love with me, Felix Clark,” I whispered. “Rule three.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Felix began inching inside me, a slow stretch that called a whimper from my throat. He paused, brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“Shh, Lucy.”

He took his time easing deeper until his hips were pressed fully to mine. He was still, but I felt him throb inside me.

“Okay?”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “More.”

He pulled almost all the way out, and then with the same unbothered pace, returned to me. It was the best kind of torture. When he rose to his knees, rubbing two fingers against me, I shuddered out a surprised breath—my body usually wasn’t ready for a second round so quickly. Only with Felix. He cupped his other hand over my mouth, and I tilted my hips at the unexpected thrill of it. The bed squeaked.

“Think you can stay still, stay quiet?” he said.

I mumbled a yes, but when his fingers moved between us, I moaned against his palm. Felix grinned, cocky and one-sided. Nothing had ever felt as good as his hand on my mouth, his fingers between us, the rhythm he set. I felt like the sand the surf crashed over. When he spread my legs wider, pushing deeper, I whispered his name into his palm.

“I love hearing you say that.” He circled his hips. I closed my eyes at the sensation, and Felix’s hand moved from my mouth to my breast, taking my nipple between his thumb and index finger. I bit my bottom lip. “Say it again, Lucy.”

“Felix,” I whispered. “More.”

We stayed wound together after, catching our breath, Felix smattering kisses to my lips and cheeks. He shifted onto the mattress beside me, bringing me with him, folding me against his chest. It wasn’t long before we were both asleep.

I woke to the soft toll of bells. It was a pretty sound, a quiet twinkling, like stars coming to life. The bed shifted, and Felix unwrapped his arm from my waist and his leg from between mine. He shut off the alarm and sat on the edge of the mattress, his exceptional back to me.

“What time is it?”

“Four thirty. I thought you might want to get upstairs before anyone wakes up.”

More, my body screamed. Felix.

He peered over his shoulder, and I sat, bringing us face-to-face.

“Okay.”

Felix’s hand coasted to my cheek. His thumb passed over my lip, his mouth moved closer to mine. “It’s nice to see you again. We always have a good time.”

My laugh came out as somewhere between a snort and a guffaw. “A very good time.”

Felix smiled. “Best time I’ve had all year.”

“You’ve just come back from Portugal. Surely traveling was the highlight.”

His eyes danced, beautiful. “Lucy . . . Lisbon . . . It’s hard to say which experience is more memorable.”

“If that’s the case, I think you need to improve your travel itinerary.”

He nudged his nose against mine. “This itinerary suits me just fine.”

We were kissing again, losing track of the hour, of sense, of anything that wasn’t our lips and hands and tongues. When we finally pulled apart, our gazes remained tethered. Felix’s palm came to rest on my cheek, his fingers tangled in my hair. It felt new and tender, and it made me nervous.

“We’re good, right?” I whispered. “We can be normal around each other?”

Felix’s hand fell from my face, and he smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “We can be normal.”





19





Now

Six Days Until Bridget’s Wedding