Summer of Seventeen (24 page)

Not at all.

Bad, bad idea.

Fucking wonderful idea.

My hands slowed on her arms, and I lowered my head to her lips. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened. Then our lips were touching; hers cool and soft, her tongue warm when it met mine.

That kiss superheated me from the inside, making me forget that we were standing in a shop’s doorway while a storm raged around us.

Too soon, Yansi pushed me away, her dark eyes sparkling even as she shivered uncontrollably.

“Come on,” I said, gripping her tightly. “We need to get you inside.”

There was a coffee shop across the street, but even though that meant heading out into the downpour again, it seemed preferable to waiting here.

We stumbled into the road, laughing as the rain pelted our bodies, running off our faces and drenching us again. And I couldn’t stop smiling.

Breathless, we fell through the door of the coffee shop, startling the people already inside. But my eyes were on her, and the way her white t-shirt had turned transparent. I could see her bra and it was pink.
Jee-zus.

She threw me a look that said,
I know what you’re thinking
, and then her cheeks reddened.

While Yansi slid into a chair, I stood in the short line to buy drinks. She wanted a skinny chai latte, whatever the hell that was: some weird, perfumed shit. I ordered a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream on top. I was a bit startled when the two drinks came to $11. Café prices always went up in the summer. I’d have to be careful with my money now I only had the part-time job at the Sandbar. But what the hell, she was worth it.

I couldn’t help staring across the café at her. Even soaking wet, she looked stunning. Although it was hard to keep my eyes on her face and away from her chest, the way her t-shirt clung to her. She caught me checking her out and raised her eyebrows. I grinned guiltily and she pretended to pout, but it ended up in a huge smile a few seconds later.

She pulled a Chapstick out of her pocket and rolled it over her lips. Watching her do that was warming me right across the room. God, I loved the way she tasted with that stuff on.

She knew what she was doing to me. I had to turn away again.

As soon as the drinks were ready, I carried them over to our table, and Yansi wrapped her shaking hands around the mug.

“Thanks.”

I sipped at my hot chocolate, drinking in her face, memorizing the soft planes of her cheeks, the dark pink of her lips, her high cheekbones, the curve of her eyelashes—I wanted to memorize every part of her. Remember her just as she was right now, glowing from the rain and our kiss, her skin flushed with the warmth of the café and the intense energy heating the air between us.

“I didn’t think I’d see you till school started again after what happened at your place,” I said, laying it out for her.

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I had to see you.”

“I’m really glad you came,” I said quietly. “But I’m guessing your mami and papi won’t be too pleased.”

“Screw ‘em!” she snapped.

I was surprised. Yansi didn’t cuss much, and she didn’t like it when I did, although I could never seem to shake the habit.

“I can’t believe Papi fired you!” she hissed. “That is
so
unfair.”

I sighed and leaned back in my seat. “Tell me about it.”

“I told him he was wrong and that you didn’t have anything to do with … to do with what happened to Sean.” She bit her lip. “How is he?”

“Okay, I guess. His folks grounded him. Took his phone.” My voice dropped. “They blame me, too.”

“What! Why?”

“Same reason as your papi. They think the drugs came from me.”

“But that’s ridiculous! Everyone knows that Sean is the biggest stoner around.”

“Not his parents,” I said, with a bitter smile. “According to them, I’m an all-around bad influence … they’ve banned him from seeing me, too.”

Yansi’s hand shot to her mouth. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, baby. That is so … it’s just so…”

“Yeah.”

She reached out to touch the back of my hand, her fingers warmed by the mug she’d been clutching.

“What happened to your hands?” she asked suddenly.

I tried to pull away, but she held my wrists firmly.

“Baby, what happened?”

I sighed. “I ran into Sean’s brothers. They weren’t too happy that I was on my way to see him.”

“Oh my God! Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

“Nah, it was kind of a one punch thing. Well … two. No biggie.”

As she traced her fingers over my knuckles, tingles of desire raced across the back of my hand, shooting up my arm like an electric charge.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered.

“Sorry,” I muttered, dropping my eyes to the table.

“Don’t be sorry. Just … not here.” She paused. “Take me home?”

She phrased it like a question.

I nodded and tried to check my wallet without her seeing. I wasn’t sure how much money I had—probably not enough for a cab to her place.

But then, hidden by the table, I felt her bare foot slide up my calf to my knee. I stopped breathing and stared up at her.

“Your home,” she said.

I was pretty certain what was going to happen.

I was too excited to be nervous, but every now and again, little ticks of anxiety jittered through me.

The moment the rain stopped, we started walking back to my house. The temperature was rising rapidly, although I couldn’t tell if that was from the storm passing, or because my blood was slowly being brought to a boil every time her thumb stroked over my hand, or our arms brushed against each other as we walked.

It seemed to take forever to get to my house, and my hands shook slightly as I slid the key into the lock.

“Um … do you want a drink or anything?”

She shook her head. “No. I want you.”

Holy fuck.

Walking up the stairs together took half a lifetime.

My room was stifling hot, humidity weighing me down like a thick blanket. My limbs felt heavy and sun drunk.

“Are you sure?”

I asked the question again, needing to hear it, needing to know that it wasn’t just me who wanted this.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Her voice was strong and clear, but I could see fear lurking behind the certainty in her eyes.

She pulled me toward my bed and I followed like a puppy, desperate for her affection, for any scrap of love that she would give me. But it wasn’t just scraps she was giving me—it was huge and substantial and everything, and I was the man she was going to give it to. And fuck, if that thought didn’t suddenly make me as nervous as all hell.

Yansi knelt on the bed and tugged me toward her and we kissed for the longest time until my body felt liquid. Her lips were sticky and tasted of mangoes and I laughed because it was crazy, and she laughed too, her small body vibrating and humming against mine.

Then she pulled hard and my knees hit the bed so I crashed down on top of her, bracing myself with my hands at the last second.

Sweat broke out all over me as the spicy heat of her body was pressed under me. I lowered my head and kissed her slowly, drawing out every touch and every taste of her lips, her tongue, the salty skin of her cheeks and neck.

I was trying so hard to stay in control, even though her scent and touch drove me crazy. Her fingers danced down my spine and pushed up under my t-shirt.

I pulled back to look at her, only half believing that she was here with me after wanting it and imagining it for so long. I stroked my thumb across the smooth silky skin of her cheek, then gently holding her head while I kissed her again.

Kissing her like this, in my room, on my bed … it was like diving into a pool of warm water. I felt her everywhere, over and in and on every part of my body, and my senses were overwhelmed and drowning in pleasure.

And it was
nothing
like when I’d been with Erin, the awkward fumbling and hurried, humiliated, heated thrusting; quick release and rough hands in the dark.

And I knew the difference, and was glad and sad, elated and miserable.

“God, Yansi, I don’t even know why you’re with me. I’m such a fuck up.”

Her hands stilled, resting feather light on my shoulder blades.

“We’re 17—we’re allowed to fuck up. But I’m with you because I see your soul. You’ve got a beautiful soul, you just don’t know it.”

I sighed, wishing it were true. But she’d seen the worst of me, and hadn’t pushed me away. Maybe, for once, I could let her see the best of me.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words tearing out of me like steam, visible for a moment then disappearing into the evening air.

I’d only said those words once before, to a dying woman. Then it had been about saying goodbye; now it was about living.

Yansi gasped, then smiled.

“Te amo demasiado,” she murmured against my lips. “I love you too much.”

Then she cupped her hands around my face and pressed soft, closed-mouth kisses to my lips, my cheeks, my chin, each eyelid.

“Mi vida,” she said.

And then I didn’t have the words because it was like she’d ripped open my chest and stolen everything I could ever say, and maybe she hadn’t stolen it, maybe I’d given it.

She pushed up my t-shirt until it was bunched under my arms and we were laughing, because neither of us wanted to stop kissing, because it seemed impossible to stop, and I didn’t want to stop, but then she was tugging at the material, and I cursed and she laughed, and I ripped it over my head.

She sighed as her hands stroked across my waist and along my hips, then she pushed on my shoulder and I rolled onto my back, my hands above my head, surrendering, taking what she’d give, giving what she’d take.

She murmured something in Spanish that I couldn’t catch and I knew she didn’t want me to, and that made my heart burn, but it didn’t matter because some words are private.

Her head dipped toward me, the black waterfall of her hair sweeping across my chest. I shivered with longing and hope. Her hands brushed across my stomach and up to my chest, drawing patterns I couldn’t see, her lips murmuring and soothing.

“Undress for me?” she whispered, and I could hear the shyness creep back into her voice.

I’d never been naked in front of her before, but I knew she needed this, for me to go first, to show her the way, the way we could be together. Let her look, let her touch, let her take me inside her with her eyes.

I pushed my shorts down and kicked them free, letting her see all of me. The parts she knew, the paler skin from my hips to the middle of my thighs, the hard center that was crying for her touch.

“You’re so white!” she gasped, and I laughed, because yeah, wasn’t expecting that, and then she laughed, because neither was she.

And I’m lying there, buck naked and we’re both laughing, because it’s ridiculous, and it’s love, and I don’t care.

She’s touched me before, but not bare, not with nothing between us, and when her small hand, damp with heat and sweat and desire touches me, I’m a little lost and a little found and a lot crazy.

“So many colors,” she said. “White and golden and light brown and your dick is pink and purple.”

“I’m a fucking rainbow,” I said, and she laughed again.

“I’m going to kiss it,” she said, and I forgot how to breathe, and my lungs burned and I gasped.

“It’s hot!” she said, like she’d just discovered gravity.

“Yeah,” I sighed with happiness. “That’s what you do to me.”

“Uh-uh! That’s how you wake up every morning, you told me!” she accused, her lips sliding across her teeth.

“Yeah,” I said again, “but dreaming of you.”

And it’s true, but it made her shake her head, and her eyes danced like wildfire.

I want to make love to her, to be inside her, but maybe that’s not going to happen, because if she touched me like that again, I was going to explode. Don’t ask me to control that. I can’t uninvent gravity or the laws of motion. I’m going to come, I’m going to be a fucking freight train and the roaring in my ears is getting louder, and I squeeze my eyes shut because it’s too soon, but she knows, I think she knows, and she doesn’t care because her hands are on me and her lips and her hair tickle across me and that’s when I lose it, and I care but I don’t.

Yansi jerked back and I would have laughed at the look of surprise on her face, but I was gasping for breath, my blood shooting through me so fast it felt like I’d dropped down the face of a 30 foot wave.

Holy shit!

And maybe I said that out loud, because she’s laughing again.

“Holy something!” she said, covering her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking, her eyes laughing.

I leaned over the bed and picked up my t-shit to wipe myself off, and my dick gives up and deflates a little, but not all the way because hell, my girl’s eyes are still fixed on me like she can’t believe that piece of me, the sideshow she just saw, like she’s waiting for my dick to leap up and bite her, and hell it wants to.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” I said, and I’m lying and lying and lying, because I
have
to know what we’re like together. It’ll be a little piece of heaven, or the stars, or the galaxy, and I know I’m a little crazy but she’s a drug, she’s my love heroin, and I need another fix.