his way, but there was a knowing glint to his eyes, a sense that the two of them shared an understanding of each other so perfect and powerful that they didn't even need words to convey it.
"Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind."
"You don't believe in God," she chastised. Her hands made their way down his chest. Her movements were as light and deliberate as his, yet they clearly triggered the same powerful response in him.
He sighed happily as her hands slid under his shirt and up his stomach. "I'm humoring you."
"You'd say anything right now," she accused. Her fingers caught the edge of his shirt and pushed it up. He shifted so she could push it all the way off him and then leaned back over her, bare-chested.
"You're right," he agreed. He carefully undid one button on her blouse. Just one. Then he again leaned down and gave her one of those hard, deep kisses. When he came up for air, he continued on as though nothing had happened. "Tell me what you need to hear, and I'll say it." He unfastened another button.
"There's nothing I need to hear," she laughed. Another button popped free. "You can tell me whatever you want-it'd just be nice if it were true."
"The truth, huh? No one wants to hear the truth. The truth is never sexy. But you …" The last button came undone, and he spread her shirt away. "You are too goddamned sexy to be real."
His words held his trademark snarky tone, but his eyes conveyed a different message entirely. I was witnessing this scene through Lissa's eyes, but I could imagine what he saw. Her smooth, white skin. Slender waist and hips. A lacy white bra. Through her, I could feel that the lace was itchy, but she didn't care.
Feelings both fond and hungry spread over his features. From within Lissa, I could feel her heart race and breathing quicken. Emotions similar to Christian's clouded all other coherent thoughts. Shifting down, he lay on top of her, pressing their bodies together. His mouth sought hers out again, and as their lips and tongues made contact, I knew I had to get out of there.
Because I understood it now. I understood why Lissa had dressed up and why the love nest had been decked out like a Yankee Candles showroom. This was it. The moment. After a month of dating, they were going to have sex. Lissa, I knew, had done it before with a past boyfriend. I didn't know Christian's past, but I sincerely doubted many girls had fallen prey to his abrasive charm.
But in feeling what Lissa felt, I could tell that none of that mattered. Not in that moment. In that moment, there were only the two of them and the way they felt about each other right now. And in a life filled with more worries than someone her age should have had, Lissa felt absolutely certain about what she was doing now. It was what she wanted. What she'd wanted for a very long time with him.
And I had no right to be witnessing it.
Who was I kidding? I didn't want to witness it. I took no pleasure in watching other people get it on, and I sure as hell didn't want to experience sex with Christian. It'd be like losing my virginity virtually.
But Jesus Christ, Lissa wasn't making it easy to get out of her head. She had no desire to detach from her feelings and emotions, and the stronger they grew, the stronger they held me. Trying to distance myself from her, I focused my energies
"Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind."
"You don't believe in God," she chastised. Her hands made their way down his chest. Her movements were as light and deliberate as his, yet they clearly triggered the same powerful response in him.
He sighed happily as her hands slid under his shirt and up his stomach. "I'm humoring you."
"You'd say anything right now," she accused. Her fingers caught the edge of his shirt and pushed it up. He shifted so she could push it all the way off him and then leaned back over her, bare-chested.
"You're right," he agreed. He carefully undid one button on her blouse. Just one. Then he again leaned down and gave her one of those hard, deep kisses. When he came up for air, he continued on as though nothing had happened. "Tell me what you need to hear, and I'll say it." He unfastened another button.
"There's nothing I need to hear," she laughed. Another button popped free. "You can tell me whatever you want-it'd just be nice if it were true."
"The truth, huh? No one wants to hear the truth. The truth is never sexy. But you …" The last button came undone, and he spread her shirt away. "You are too goddamned sexy to be real."
His words held his trademark snarky tone, but his eyes conveyed a different message entirely. I was witnessing this scene through Lissa's eyes, but I could imagine what he saw. Her smooth, white skin. Slender waist and hips. A lacy white bra. Through her, I could feel that the lace was itchy, but she didn't care.
Feelings both fond and hungry spread over his features. From within Lissa, I could feel her heart race and breathing quicken. Emotions similar to Christian's clouded all other coherent thoughts. Shifting down, he lay on top of her, pressing their bodies together. His mouth sought hers out again, and as their lips and tongues made contact, I knew I had to get out of there.
Because I understood it now. I understood why Lissa had dressed up and why the love nest had been decked out like a Yankee Candles showroom. This was it. The moment. After a month of dating, they were going to have sex. Lissa, I knew, had done it before with a past boyfriend. I didn't know Christian's past, but I sincerely doubted many girls had fallen prey to his abrasive charm.
But in feeling what Lissa felt, I could tell that none of that mattered. Not in that moment. In that moment, there were only the two of them and the way they felt about each other right now. And in a life filled with more worries than someone her age should have had, Lissa felt absolutely certain about what she was doing now. It was what she wanted. What she'd wanted for a very long time with him.
And I had no right to be witnessing it.
Who was I kidding? I didn't want to witness it. I took no pleasure in watching other people get it on, and I sure as hell didn't want to experience sex with Christian. It'd be like losing my virginity virtually.
But Jesus Christ, Lissa wasn't making it easy to get out of her head. She had no desire to detach from her feelings and emotions, and the stronger they grew, the stronger they held me. Trying to distance myself from her, I focused my energies
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