Page 110 of Find My Way Down to You

“Wanting things is dangerous,” he says, finally answering my question from earlier.

I inhale.

His thumb presses to the pulse point on my wrist. “Especially when it is something I cannot have.”

Heat races underneath my skin. “You can’t?”

He sighs. His fingers skim up my arm. Light and warm against my collarbone. Every nerve in me chases the touch.

“But I want you, August,” he confesses. “I have wanted you for longer than you know.” The urgency in his voice trembles through my spine. “And I fear I will never stop.”

Silence wraps around us. Everything but the sea outside.I can’t think of what to say. How to tell him I want him too. Constantly.

In ways that are terrifying and thrilling.

I settle for leaning forward. Kissing him, slow and purposeful. My lips tell him what my voice can’t. He listens, then complies. His soft mouth opens against mine.

Strong, confident hands find my waist, the back of my neck, pulling. I go, like being dragged by the tide.

We fall to our sides. Impatient fingers slide beneath my shirt. I tug at his Henley, at anything between us. Our inexperience is exposed in tremoring hands. In jerky, uncoordinated movements.

But then we’re free of barriers.

He crushes me to him, skin hot and aching. I kiss his neck, the muscles of his chest. He smells like salty shores and ripe fruit. He swells against my bare belly.

I’m hard against his thigh.

His strength overwhelms me. Soon, I’m on my back. His teeth are against my throat. He presses my name to my skin. Over and over.

I look up at him. The globes of light form a crown of stars around his head. He’s panting, wide-eyed. Simultaneously nervous and starved.

“This all right? Can we—”

I snuff out his hesitation before it can spark a flame. My hands clasp around the back of his neck. “Yes.”

He’s everywhere. Gasps under my jaw. Fingers strummingmy ribs. Hands along my thighs. My hard-on flush against his stomach.

A newness washes over me. Like this is the first time.

Cary stares into my eyes. He moves to the tempo of my inhales, exhales. When I slip away, he brings me back with a gentle kiss. When I tense, he pauses and waits. Then begins again.

My fingers tangle in his hair. He lets me guide us to a place we both want.

And I can’t stop wanting more.

He is the earth, solid and grounding. He is air, filling and necessary. He is fire, hot against my skin and melting my anxiousness. He is water, refreshing and I drink him in.

I’m overwhelmed. He is too. It twists us until everything and nothing meet.

Until we’re still and breathless andhere, together.

After, Cary kisses my naked shoulder. I feel hazy. Those long seconds when waking from a dream. But it’s not one. This happened.

I turn my head to admire his soft expression. Sunrise gold splashing through his black eyes. With swollen lips, he smiles.

“Are you still scared to want?” I ask him.

“Yes.” Before my body tightens, retreats, he brushes a hand over my cheek. “But life without fear is pointless. Fear is what gives flight to risks. To the moments we remember most.”