Lost and Found Page 16

  I kiss her until we’re both short of breath, our bodies needing more contact than just our mouths. Moving my lips away from hers I work my way along her jaw, down her neck, across her collar bone, covering every inch of exposed skin. I lay down beside her and my hand touches everything my mouth isn’t. My fingers trail lazy circles down her stomach and she shivers and kisses me harder, which I take as encouragement to keep going. When I reach the button on her jeans she stops me, inching away and reaching for my hand.

  “Spence, wait,” she says, a hint of panic in her voice. And I hate myself for it, but my first thought is not again. I prop myself up on my arm so I can look down at her face.

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  She nods, but she looks nervous. “I want to do this,” she says, much to my relief.

  “Me too,” I say, kissing her. She kisses me back and then pulls away.

  “But I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay,” I say, and now I’m feeling nervous. That’s not a sentence I want to hear right now.

  “I haven’t done this in awhile,” she says. My shoulders fall in relief. Well that’s not a big deal, I don’t care. I haven’t done this in awhile either. Awhile for me, anyway.

  “That’s okay,” I say, kissing her forehead, her cheek. She’s looking down, staring somewhere in the vicinity of my left nipple, refusing to look me in the eye. I can’t get at her mouth without shoving her head back.

  “And it was implied I wasn’t good at it, so like, you’re probably going to be disappointed. I’m sorry.”

  I chuckle nervously. “What?”

  “Don’t make me say it again,” she half-moans, burying her face in my chest.

  “Hey,” I say, stroking her hair and leaning back so I can see her face. “We don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to.”

  She looks up at me. Her eyes look wary but her voice is firm. “I want to.”

  “Okay then,” I say, smiling at her. “There’s no way you could disappoint me right now. If we stopped this whole thing right now, I wouldn’t be disappointed. Anything past this point is already amazing, okay?”

  She smiles and nods, and I kiss her, slowly, until I feel her start to relax below me.

  She takes my hand and moves it back down to the button on her jeans. As I push them off her hips she reaches down to help, wriggling out of them and kicking them to the floor. My fingers feel for the lacy edge of her underwear and slide underneath. I’ve been kissing her this whole time and now I pull my mouth from hers and look down at her, waiting for the okay to keep going. She nods at me, and my fingers inch further south, still moving in those lazy circles.

  She closes her eyes, and I softly kiss her eyelids, making my way down to her mouth. Her breathing becomes erratic and shallow and I keep moving my hand, her hips writhing along with my movements. Her hands clamp down on the back of my neck and she’s kissing me like crazy, like she can’t get enough. I can’t get enough of her either. She tenses under my fingers and she pulls her mouth away from mine with a sharp intake of breath as her body begins to tremble. I press my forehead against hers.

  “Oh, Spence,” she half sighs, half moans and it’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

  I move my hand away from her and she loosens her grip on me, laying back into the pillows as she catches her breath. I kiss her and she runs her hands along my ribs, until they're on the button of my jeans and she’s tugging at it, trying to get it undone. On her face is the sexiest expression of determination I’ve ever seen.

  I get up and she reaches for me, looking worried, until she realizes I’m taking the jeans off.

  I look down at Gemma laying on the bed in front of me. She’s wearing blue lacy underwear which I pause to admire, surprised they’re not black. I’m marveling at the sight of her in front of me like this, when she reaches down and slides the blue lacy underwear off her hips.

  Her boldness throws me and all I can do is stand there and look at her but I can’t seem to take it all in because holy shit.

  “Spence,” she says, sitting up on her elbows, and I snap out of it and realize I’m gaping at her with my mouth hanging open. She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Are you just going to stare at me all night?”

  “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” I say, and crawl over to her, bringing my mouth to hers. She pulls me against her and presses her hips against mine and goddamn I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this girl right this second.

  I drag myself away from her, taking off my boxers and rummaging around for my wallet and the protection I keep in there. Then I’m back on the bed with her, positioning myself between her knees. My hands are next to her head and I prop myself up, leaning down to kiss her as I press against her. She tenses below me and grips the sheets with her hands.

  I go still. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask her.

  “Absolutely not,” she says, and reaches up to wrap her arms around me.

  Then, she starts to move, lifting her hips an inch and pulling back slowly. It’s the best kind of torture. I take it for as long as I can before slowly pushing myself all the way into her and we both gasp. Nothing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life has ever felt as good as this moment. Our breathing is shallow and neither one of us moves.

  I lean my forehead against hers. “Okay?”

  “Yes,” she says, but she sounds tentative, her voice a whisper.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she says, more certain now.

  I start to move, slowly at first, as her fingers cling at my shoulders.

  “Still okay?” I ask her again.

  “Stop asking me that,” she breathes, as she pulls my mouth down to hers. I collapse onto my forearms and she wraps her legs around my waist. I pick up the pace and she moves with me as we settle into a rhythm.

  “Yes, Spence,” she says, and she keeps saying it — yes, yes, yes.

  I roll my hips against hers and her fingers dig into my back and her body starts to tense again, but mine is too. Every nerve ending feels like it’s being stretched to capacity and I’m worried I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. Then with a final ohmigod, yes she crashes around me, and we both go over the edge.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gemma

  Afterward, we both collapse against the pillows, breathless. Spence’s cheeks are flushed. His eyes are closed but there’s a small smile on his lips. He stifles a yawn, and I rest my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me. He’s making no moves to get up and leave, and I’m glad, because I don’t want him to.

  Already the memory of what just happened sends delicious chills down my spine. A deep sense of sleepy, contented happiness settles over me.

  “Are you okay?” Spence asks me for the millionth time.

  “Yes, I’m fine. You can stop asking me that now.” I’m more than fine. I feel like I’m floating. I’m so tired, but I want to do that again. And again. And again. Spence isn’t getting up and rushing from the room. He’s not looking at me with disappointment on his face. He’s holding me the same way he has been all night—like I’m made of glass, something to handle with care. And the way he looked at me the whole time, like he won the lottery and couldn’t quite believe it. I don’t think anyone’s ever looked at me like that before. I like it.

  “Sorry, sorry.” He rolls over so he’s facing me, pulling me closer to him. “So that was okay? It was… good, right?”

  The look of concern on his face makes my chest ache, in a good way. I poke him in the ribs. “For someone who’s done nothing but talk about how great he is since I met him, you’re awfully concerned about your performance.”

  He grins and shoves at me playfully. “Think of it like one of those surveys restaurants stick in with the check. ‘How would you rate your service tonight on a scale of one to five’?”

  “You’re the worst,” I tell him, shaking my head and laughing.

  “In general or in bed?
”

  “In general. In bed …” I pause, like I’m thinking. “I’ll give you a ten.”

  “The scale only goes to five.”

  I raise one eyebrow at him. “Exactly.”

  He laughs and pulls me closer, so my face presses against his chest. He smells like soap and cold winter air and a little sweaty, but it’s nice.

  “I’m the one that’s supposed to be worried about me performance,” I say.

  “No you shouldn’t,” he says. “You’re not bad at that. Not at all. You’re a ten, too. Almost an eleven. If we keep practicing I think you’ll be an eleven in no time.”

  I whack him in the side and feel him smile against the top of my head.

  “You know I can’t lie,” he says. “I don’t know where you got that information but it was wrong. Very wrong.”

  “Kevin Boomhauser,” I say.

  “What?” he asks. He looks down at me, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

  And I don’t know why, but I tell him the whole embarrassing story. I’ve never told it to anyone before, and now that I’ve said it out loud it’s still embarrassing and horrible, but it also feels faraway. Like it happened to someone else. In a lot of ways, I guess it did.

  When I’m done, Spence has a funny look on his face I can’t quite read. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says. “That guy was a dick.”

  “It probably wouldn’t have bothered me as much as it has, but my dad died not long after. So it all kind of got lumped together. I guess it wasn’t all bad, though. It helped me get my shit together.”

  Spence has his chin resting on my head and he’s stroking my hair. I yawn, exhaustion threatening to overtake me. “Sorry. I kind of have a lot of baggage.”

  He pulls away, enough so he can lean down and kiss me. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping you carry it.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Spence

  When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a minute to realize where I am.

  Gemma’s bed. Gemma’s sheets tangled around my legs. Gemma’s naked ass against my hip.

  She’s turned on her side away from me, still sleeping. I’m grateful for that, because I’m freaking out a little.

  I’ve never spent the night at a girl’s place. I don’t know exactly what I’m supposed to do now.

  Last night was amazing. Like really, really fucking amazing.

  Until she told me that story about that asshole Boomer guy. And I realized that I could have easily been Boomer.

  I mean I’m not, obviously. I’d never act the way he did. It kills me to think of that happening to her. I don’t like the idea of guys using her. Guys like me.

  It makes me wonder what makes this situation different, for both of us. Would I feel the same way about her if I’d met her a couple years ago? Would she have felt the same way about me?

  More importantly, how do I feel about her now? I called her my girlfriend last night. We’re a couple now. The thought makes me feel queasy and excited in equal measure. There’s no going back now. In for a penny, in for a pound. But the further I fall, the more pressure there is.

  I don’t have time to think about all this for too long, because Gemma stretches and rolls over to face me. And just like that, I’m hard as a rock.

  “Good morning to you, too,” she says, grinning and moving closer to me.

  “Mmm, good morning.”

  She fits so perfectly snuggled up beside me. And she smells so good, and her hands are so soft.

  I can’t think straight when she’s around me. Especially not when she’s naked.

  “You look cute in the morning,” she tells me.

  “I’m always cute,” I tell her. “Should we go get breakfast?”

  “Mmm yes,” she says. She’s running her fingers absentmindedly along my ribs and it’s giving me chills. “Diner breakfast?”

  “Yes. But not yet.” I roll over so I’m on top of her. “Let’s build up an appetite first.”

  She laughs, and pulls my mouth down to hers.

  We get to the diner an hour later. As we’re waiting for a table I think about how this is the first time I’ve ever gone out to breakfast with a girl. A lot of firsts are happening with Gemma, and I couldn’t imagine experiencing them with anyone else.

  She’s standing in front of me and I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her head. She grabs onto my wrists, holding me into her.

  As far as morning afters go, this one isn’t so bad. Gemma is the only girl I’ve ever wanted a morning after with. Sure, it scares the shit out of me, but I don’t want her for just one night. I want her for every night, and every morning, too.

  Don’t fuck this up, is the thought running on a loop in my brain.

  The diner is a tiny hole in the wall, which is the best kind of diner, because they always serve the best breakfasts. We end up at a cramped table in the front corner by the windows. We order iced coffees instead of hot, because this is New England and no matter how cold it is here we always think iced coffee is a good idea.

  We blow the paper straw wrappers at each other like a couple of little kids. I can’t stop smiling. It’s a genuine smile too. A totally blissed-out happy smile.

  “So last night was fun,” I say to Gemma, my smile now teasing. “And so was this morning.”

  She covers her face with her hands but I can see the blush spreading across her cheeks through her fingers.

  “Don’t get all shy on me now,” I say, laughing and tugging her hands away from her face. After her initial nervousness went away Gemma hadn’t been shy at all. In fact, this morning she had been downright bossy. I liked it.

  She shakes her head at me, but she’s smiling.

  “Max and Lucas are going to give me shit about disappearing on them last night.”

  “Oh god, Amanda is going to do the same to me,” Gemma groans.

  “Speaking of last night,” she continues, and I tense up. What she says next could go in so many different directions. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Pete Crawford?”

  Well, fuck. This relationship is going to be over before it’s even gotten started.

  Gemma’s been looking down at the table, rolling her straw wrapper into a little ball, but she glances up at me now.

  “The whole thing with Pete is stupid.”

  “Stupid how?”

  I take a deep breath. She’s going to be pissed if I don’t tell her and pissed if I do, so it doesn’t matter either way, but I’ve always taken the honest route.

  “We have a messed up history. When Max and Lucas were starting the band they were choosing between asking me or Pete to join. Lucas was loyal to me of course, but Max and Pete go back. They picked me, because I’m the better musician, but that’s more or less what started the bad blood between me and Pete.

  At the time, we all hung around in the same crowd. Pete started bringing this girl around. I knew they were hanging out, but every time I saw her when she wasn’t with Pete, she made it pretty obvious she was into me. So I didn’t think there was anything going on between them. When the opportunity to sleep with her presented itself, I took it.

  Well I guess things between her and Pete were pretty serious to Pete, and when he did find out, he was pissed.”

  “Oh,” Gemma says.

  “Yeah. Honestly, I didn’t know. If I had known they were together I wouldn’t have touched her.”

  “That’s her fault then, not yours,” Gemma points out.

  “I mean, that’s what I thought too. Pete didn’t see it that way. Not long after this happened is when Fiona and me started dating. During one of our many breaks, Pete took advantage of the situation and slept with her. I didn’t find out about that until we’d gotten back together. And that’s why I hate Pete,” I finish. It’s an ugly story and it’s stupid and immature but whatever, now she knows.

  “That’s…a lot,” she says.

  “I know. Remember how you said last night you had a lot of bagga
ge? I probably have twice as much as you. I’m really a fuck up. Especially when it comes to girls.”

  “You haven’t fucked anything up with me,” Gemma says.

  The implied yet floats, invisible, between us.

  “I don’t want to fuck things up with you,” I tell her. “I didn’t want to tell you any of that. I don’t want you to know that shit about me.”

  “Well, I’m glad you told me.”

  She doesn’t look glad I told her, not that I blame her.

  I reach across the table and grab her hands.

  “It won’t be like that with us. The whole thing with Pete was a misunderstanding.”

  “Right,” she says, but she won’t look up at me.

  “We’re good?” I ask hopefully.

  Gemma looks up at me and smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, we’re good.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Gemma

  I don’t know what I expected when I asked for the whole Pete Crawford story, but it wasn’t that. I should have known it would involve him sleeping with multiple women, but I guess I was hoping it wouldn’t.

  Things have been so good with Spence and I. I’ve managed to forget all about his past and the risks I am taking by getting close to him. But Pete’s comments are a reminder that there’s another side to Spence. Just because I’ve been ignoring it doesn’t mean it’s not there, and it doesn’t mean I won’t get hurt.

  Of course I ran right home and told Amanda.

  “Yeah that’s not great,” Amanda says. “But can we circle back to the part where he called you his girlfriend and you slept with him?”

  Figures that’s the part of the story Amanda is focused on.

  “I know. The whole night caught me off guard.”

  “How was it?” Amanda gushes. “How do you feel about all this? God it’s all happening so fast.”

  “Really?” I look at her in disbelief. “This is fast? Have you already forgotten how you and Lucas got together?”