“Please let me taste you,” I begged. If he pulled away now I didn’t know what I’d do. I’d most likely crumble into a heap of sexual frustration and never get up again.

“I want to taste you too,” he whispered and then his tongue was arching out to meet mine. I sealed my lips over his and I taught him how to kiss me like he wanted to devour.

For someone who was so new to this whole kissing thing, he picked up the basics surprisingly fast. The man was a natural. He sucked on my tongue and I couldn’t control my deep, guttural moan. I instantly froze, worried my primal response would send him scrambling.

I was pleasantly shocked when it had the opposite effect. Flynn brought his hands up and pressed his palms into my back. He dug his fingers into my flesh and I felt as though he were trying to burrow his way inside. His mouth was hot and hurried.

But I could only go so far. And I wanted to scream with the irony of that. I had finally found a man I wanted to share all of myself with but he wasn’t ready for me to do that.

Because I wanted to grope. I wanted to stroke. I wanted to rip his clothes off and run my hands over his smooth, hard body. But I couldn’t.

This was the first step and I couldn’t venture any further. Even if the ache between my thighs was threatening to reach an earth shattering crescendo.

So after a few minutes, I forced myself to pull back. I didn’t want to and I could tell Flynn didn’t want me to either. His lips reached out for mine again, his fingers turning to claws as he gripped me tightly. I chuckled as I leaned backwards, placing a finger over his mouth.

“Let me catch my breath,” I pleaded. Because if I didn’t take a minute, I’d push him for more. I had officially become the dude in our scenario.

“But I want to kiss you a lot. I liked that,” he pouted and I couldn’t help but kiss him one more time. But when he tried to deepen it, I pulled away and rolled onto my back.

We were quiet for a long time. I threw my arm over my eyes and tried to dampen my raging hormones. I was more turned on by Flynn’s kisses than I had ever been by having sex with the countless guys that had come before him.

The only sound was our raspy breathing. It was a comfortably intimate moment, lying in the grass, our arms barely touching, lost in the waves of a passion I could barely believe was real.

“Was it okay? Did you like it?” Flynn asked and I could hear the thread of doubt in his voice. His normally flat tone was tinged with worry.

I lowered my arm and rolled back on my side so that I was facing him again. His eyes were trained on the sky so I reached out and placed my hand on his chest.

“I loved it, Flynn. It was amazing,” I said truthfully. I hoped he could recognize my sincerity. I hoped, just this once, he understood the real emotion in my tone and inflection. Because what I wanted to say but couldn’t was so much more profound than that.

I love you, Flynn.

“Good, because I want to do that again.” Flynn grinned and squeezed my hand before sitting up.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Flynn whistled for Murphy who came galloping across the yard with his long, clumsy strides. His large body collided with Flynn, who caught him around the middle.

He touched and cuddled the creature so easily. One day I hoped he touched me with such easy affection.

“I’m freezing. I have banana bread inside. Come have some,” Flynn stated, getting to his feet and systematically wiping grass from his pants and shirt. It was never a question. Flynn only gave commands.

And for once I didn’t feel oppositional when told to do something. My need to defy was tucked away quietly. This time I was happy to comply.

So I followed the man who had stolen my heart and stitched up my soul into the house of our shared childhood. Where I could remember the person I had almost been.

And just maybe I could be her now.

18

-Flynn-

Many years ago…

Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday. Mom said she’d make me my special cake. It was vanilla cake with chocolate icing. I told her I wanted to have Ellie over for cake and ice cream. Mom had frowned and told me no.

I had gotten angry. I threw my glass and it cut Mom’s arm. I felt bad then. I saw the blood and I started to cry. It was gross. It made me feel sick.

Mom told me not to worry about it. She said she’d clean it up and be good as new. She told me I had to stop throwing things when I got mad. That I should talk instead of being violent.

I told her I’d try.

She told me Ellie could come over and that made me happy.

I tried to talk to Ellie when I got to school but she was with Dania and Stu and those other kids she talks to.

“Tomorrow’s my birthday,” I told her. Dania started laughing. It made me mad.

“It’s the ‘tard’s birthday, Stu!” Dania said, her voice sounding like a cow I heard crying when it was dying in our neighbor’s field.

I put my hands over my ears so I could block out her voice. “Shut up!” I yelled. They kept laughing.

Ellie didn’t stop them. She laughed with them. That made my stomach hurt.

“Stop laughing!” I yelled even louder. If I were loud enough, maybe they’d hear me and they’d stop.

“’Tard boy’s having a birthday! Are we invited to the party? Will there be balloons? What about a clown?” Stu laughed and laughed and I was getting madder.

I hit the locker and ran down the hall. I hated all of them. Even Ellie.

Ellie turned around in her seat at the end of English class. I didn’t want to talk to her. She had been mean to me. She was mean to me all the time now. She used to be my friend. Sometimes she still was. When she came to my house she was nice. She’d smile a lot and I liked that.