Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (20 page)

Easing the pressure I’ve applied, she lets out a sigh that parts her lips against mine.

Holy shit
.

With my heart racing, I’m overcome with a fervor I don’t understand, and my arms have begun to shake as I hold myself up. I have to force myself to remember to be gentle, when gentle is the last thing I want to be. I want to devour this girl and drink her in until we become one.

Licking her bottom lip, a groan escapes me at the fullness and flavor of her. Needing more, I sink my tongue into the deep recesses of her mouth and savor what has to be the best damn thing I have ever tasted in my entire life.

I knew kissing her would be something else, but I never imagined this. Damn, it’s perfect.
She’s
perfect.

MY MIND, MY body, and my heart are all at war with each other as I feel the magnetic pull between us. My mind is saying, “If you do this, he’s going to touch you. Are you ready for the reaction this might cause?” My body is saying, “If you don’t do this, I will hate you forever,” as it’s vibrating for him. And my heart is saying, “If you do this, there’s no going back. He will mark you indefinitely.” But as he stares down into my eyes and the battle plays out, the voices quiet, and I feel the body winning.

I had wondered if he would kiss me before I left for home. A girl would have to be blind not to see some of the glances that he’s given me, not that they were suggestive in any way, but the attraction was evident. Had I been someone else—say, someone like Cora—I might have even initiated it, but there’s no way I could have. It’s just not in me, even though I’ve thought about it endlessly.

Ash’s eyes are penetrating mine, and as he leans in closer to me, an invisible weight pushes me flatter onto the blanket. I swear I’m not trying to move away from him, I’m certain I want this just as much as he does, but it’s been so long. Doubt creeps in and mixes with the butterflies. The muscles around his eyes tighten, and his eyes move away from mine and search my face. What does he see when he looks at me? Can he see the apprehension? Does he think it’s just nerves? What if I’m not any good at kissing and he’s disappointed? My heart is racing, and I will it to calm. I don’t want to ruin this moment.

Time suspends between the two of us as he thinks this through. Looking up into his handsome face, I memorize every detail from the curve of his jawline to the length of his eyelashes—which are so long and dark they brush the top of his cheeks when he blinks. I want to remember everything, and I see in his eyes the moment he makes the decision. It’s like there were greyish blue clouds lingering and instantly they’ve cleared, leaving them as blue as the afternoon sky. His eyes flicker from mine to my mouth, he licks his lips, and that’s it.

No more time wasted.

My hand, which is tangled in the back of his shirt, pulls as he moves. I’m not even sure which hits me first, the heat from his breath or the heat from his lips. Not that it matters, I welcome them both, and flames race throughout my entire body as his lips press to mine.

Oh my God.

His lips . . .

On mine.

I’ve died and gone to heaven. Every bit of nerves evaporates and in their wake, a sense of rightness settles in that I haven’t felt in a long time. A sigh escapes me and my bottom lip falls between his.

His lips . . .

Feel like everything.

They are warm, full, and right this second . . . mine.

He runs his tongue over my bottom lip, tasting me, and coaxing my lips further apart. I groan into his mouth at the sensation and his breath mixes with mine. I want him to deepen this kiss. I want to lose myself in him and drown in a passion that’s so absolute it makes my insides tighten and leaves me sweltering for more. I want this with him—no, I need this with him—because it has to
be
him. These feelings are
only
for him, and I’ve never wanted it more.

Sliding my hand around his back, I pull him tighter against me, and his chest brushes against mine. He pauses for just a second to catch his breath and the sound of his breathing combined with the beat of my heart hits my ears. The cadence of the two together creates the perfect harmony. It’s sexy and intimate, causing the heat from the flames to radiate off my skin. It’s a sound I never want to forget, and knowing what’s coming next, my eyes squeeze tighter in anticipation . . . then he gives us what we both so desperately want. He claims me completely.

Shock charges surge through my heart as his tongue caresses mine. In and around, he takes what he wants, giving me something so beautiful in return tears burn in the back of my eyes. He’s gentle, but commanding, and there’s a hunger lingering just beneath the surface that’s just begging to be let free. I desperately want him to set it free, but I know he won’t. Instead, his lips, his tongue, and his breath all tangle with mine and in the most delicious way.

He tastes like apple from the cider we were drinking earlier, and fall. Why he tastes like fall, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I now associate this time of year with him, or maybe it’s that his mouth is warm while cool air hits my skin. Either way he tastes like fall, which has instantly become my favorite season, and it tastes so good.

Surrendering myself over to him, he explores my mouth with such devotion, he’s stealing a piece of my heart and he doesn’t even know it. This kiss is beyond amazing and clarity sinks in as I realize I have
never
been kissed before. Yes, I know that Chris is the only person I’ve kissed so my experience is limited, but it never occurred to me how completely different it can be from one person to the next.

Kisses like this can’t be normal, right? Then again, movies, books, songs, and poems have all been written about longing for and experiencing the perfect kiss, and I know without a doubt I’m having mine. This kiss is going to devastate me and revive me all at the same time.

Pulling back, he rests his forehead against mine and takes in a few breaths, each one falling across my face as he exhales.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his eyes still closed.

Breezes from the tree blow over us, and I hear laughter in the distance. My heart slows as we both lie here, neither moving, just breathing each other in.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed,” I whisper into his mouth.

His ocean blue eyes open and find mine. Silence stretches between us as he searches for answers. He knows asking questions will break the rules, and I hope he does break them. I think I’m ready to tell him more. He shifts his weight so he’s lying on his side, and he props his head up on his hand.

“How long?” His other hand moves to cup my face and his thumb runs over my cheekbone. The move is tender, affectionate, and my skin burns from his touch.

“Seven years,” I mutter, a blush warming my cheeks.

His eyes widen in shock. “How is that possible? You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” He shakes his head in confusion.

My blush deepens at his compliment as his thumb moves to run over my bottom lip. It feels swollen, but in the best possible way.

“I don’t think it’s really hard to figure out. You’ve met me, right?” I give him a small sympathetic smile. Sympathetic for myself, because I know I’ve missed out on some great life experiences.

“Ava,” he breathes out with sadness.

Sudden guilt engulfs me and the blush vanishes.

He’s been so good to me and I haven’t even told him my real name. Soon. I’ll tell him soon. If I tell him now, it might ruin the moment, and I’m
really
enjoying this moment.

I shrug my shoulders and look at his lips. They’re so pink and flawless.

“Well, if you feel the need to make up for some lost time, I’m your guy.” He gives me a lopsided grin and one dimple peeks at me.

A giggle escapes and my eyes reconnect with his. There’s an amused glint in them, but they look thoughtful and kind too.

“I just might take you up on that.” My heart rate picks up at the possibility of him kissing me more.

His grin grows to a full smile, and his eyes flicker back to my lips.

“Good,” and just like that he closes the distance between us.

This kiss doesn’t have the desperate edge to it that the first one did, and he explores my mouth with fascination and skill. His movements are slower, deeper, and this time he’s touching me.

He’s touching me! And I’m not freaking out! Not once have I felt even a glimmer of panic or fear. If anything, what I feel is normal. He makes me feel normal. How did I get so lucky to be here, with him, under this tree, on this gorgeous day? I want to bottle this moment up and carry it with me always.

His hand moves from my face, to the back of my head, and down to my neck. I feel like he’s marking me and I want more. More of him . . . and that’s what I get. I’m not sure how long we actually lie here kissing. No one stops us or complains, the songs change one after another, and the dusk sky easily slips to night. This is the best date I have ever been on, and yes, I’m calling it a date.

“Do you want to stay a little longer?” he murmurs against my neck, sending goosebumps fluttering down my arm.

“Do you mind?” This night has been so magical for me, I want it to last as long as possible.

He pulls back and smiles at me. He’s so gorgeous. I’m not sure how I keep forgetting, but I do, and each time, it’s like looking at him for the first time all over again.

“Nope,” he blinks at me. “I’m having the best time.” His thumb strokes my cheek and I want to melt into his touch.

“Me too. The company’s okay, but the music is so good.” I shrug, giving him a playful look.

He busts out laughing. “Let me guess . . . you’re a comedian?”

“Only part time.” I grin at him.

“Right,” he drawls out. “I like you like this.” His face switches to a sincere one.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s like you’re more open, having a good time—being yourself.”

He’s right. I have been more open with him. He makes it easy, and he makes me want to. His fingers move to tuck some loose hair behind my ear. I love it when he does this.

“How about if I go and get us another drink?” he asks.

“I’d like that.” I run my hand over his side and down to his hip, memorizing the bumps of his ribcage.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He leans over and brushes his lips against mine one more time, hops up, and graces me with the most content, pleased, and devilishly handsome smile.

Be still my heart.

Watching him walk away, he adjusts the hat and pulls it down lower. It’s then I notice that the crowd has definitely filled in since we arrived, and my cheeks warm at the thought of someone watching us kiss. But then I realize I don’t care.

I now understand the true story of
Sleeping Beauty
. For seven years, I have been in a dark slumber, and one kiss from Ash has brought me back to life. I feel invigorated and new. Colors are brighter, smells are stronger, and things sound sharper. The bubble has popped. I feel awake, and I feel set free.

The blanket vibrates and I look over to see Ash’s phone lying near the edge. He either left it, or it fell out of his pocket, and the name Juliet flashes across the screen, disappears, and leaves his phone illuminated to the home screen. There, right in the middle, is a brown-haired boy grinning back from ear to ear at whoever took the picture.

My stomach drops and reality crashes over me.

Oh my God.

Does he have a son? And who is Juliet?

For the first time in four days, I really wonder what his story is. Frantically, I flip through our conversations and remember him talking about his grandfather, but not once did he mention a sibling, so this can’t be his nephew, right? Not that I have a problem with him having a son, everyone has a past, but this is a huge piece of information to not disclose.

My heart starts pounding, and not in a good way. I reach up and push on my chest. Quickly, anxiety and confusion trickle in under my skin, and my back breaks out in a cold sweat.

How
is
it possible that a nice, handsome guy like him is unattached? My mind drifts back to him sitting at the bar, the first night I saw him, and the conversation I had with Emma. I hate to think the worst of him after he’s been so nice, but what normal guy just sits at the bar while his friend is out meeting girls, having fun? I said it then and now I’m worried . . . maybe he does have a girlfriend . . . or a wife.