Page 4 of Xavier

I hate the way he says my name. Only my dad calls me that, and only when he’s angry. “My name is Ronny.” My mom gave me that nickname and I’m thinking of making it my legal name as a way to honor her.

“Ronny.” The word is a rasp against my skin.

Hell. I want V, even if I can’t have him. But would one taste really hurt? This might be my only chance. And if I throw away my shot now, I don’t think I’ll ever get it back.

I step close to V, closing the distance between us. If I breathe in deep our bodies will press together, and I can already smell the scent of V’s cologne, even over the stench of chlorine sticking to me.

“What are you doing, Ronny?” V demands, but he doesn’t tell me to step back.

Is he still humoring me? Or is it possible that he understands I’m not a kid? That I have wants and needs?

I place my hand on his cheek and feel his stubble scrape against my skin. V stops breathing, but he doesn’t step back. I finally get the courage to look up and meet his eyes. If ice blue eyes could burn, his would be singeing me.

I lean in and press my lips against his. It’s tentative.

It’s my first kiss.

V shudders under me and suddenly he takes hold of my wrist and opens his mouth under mine, his tongue sweeping against mine in a burst of passion I never imagined him capable of.

I know I’m supposed to be doing something. Touching him. Kissing him back. Moaning. But all I can do is be swept away by the feelings I’m drowning in. V is a tidal wave and I’m helpless to resist.

My breasts feel heavy and I’m hot and cold at the same time, the damp of my swimsuit clashing with my physical reaction. I want to tug it off and stand naked before V, to let him do whatever he wants to me, even if I’ve never done anything with a guy before.

But I’m too stunned to move and before I truly have time to process what’s happening V pulls away.

He’s breathing heavy and his blue eyes are dark with something I can’t quite name. “Get back to your party, Ronny,” he commands, the dark edge to his voice even darker.

I go. And for the rest of the night I wonder what would have happened if I asked for more. Regret and what ifs eat me up inside.

And in the morning V isn’t at the house, off on some assignment for my dad.

It was never meant to be.

But I’m sure I’ll dream about the kiss forever.