16. Chapter 16

Chapter 1 6

Lacey

He bought me a book.

He bought me a romance book.

Giddiness fills my stomach as I stare at the adorable floral cover in Skylar's hands. I wasn't sure what to expect when he said he wanted to see me tonight, a few days after my mental breakdown, but here he is.

Casually holding my personal form of kryptonite in his hand.

"It's an apology. For rushing out the way I did." Skylar chews his lip, temporarily distracting me, "You might have already read this one, but I thought it could be a project as well."

"Project?"

He nods slowly before passing over the treasured item.

"I went ahead and covered up the sex scenes with sticky notes. I tried to label some of the sections so you can work your way up without taking a sharpie to the page."

Opening the book with shaky fingers, I flip through the pages until I find the sticky notes. Skylar didn't just label the sex scenes for me. He drew an entire symbol table that carefully explains what each colour of sticky note hides and what intensity level he associates with it.

It's simple and thoughtful and so perfectly Skylar.

"Thank you." Pressing the book against my overflowing heart, I can barely stop the tears from spilling over.

Skylar shrugs, shuffling his feet, "Like I said, it's an apology. I shouldn't have run out on you like that. Not after you opened up to me."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not." He blows out a breath, "I grew up seeing the consequences of my father's anger and now the thought of being out of control scares me. When things go sideways, my normal response is to turn and run but that isn't fair to you."

I frown, "You don't have to worry about hurting me, Skylar. Hurting people is a choice and that is not one you will ever make."

"You don't know that."

"Yes. I do."

Shaking my head, I grab his hand and pull him further into my dorm, "You don't give yourself enough credit. I've seen the way you extract yourself from situations when your temper flares up. It's cautious and thoughtful and not the actions of a violent man."

Skylar reaches up and brushes a wayward curl behind my ear .

"I don't know how you do it, but you give me hope. It's a dangerous feeling, but it feels safe when it's from you."

"Of course it does. I'm a reliable source."

He huffs out a laugh and my smile grows wider. Skylar's laughter comes out even less than his smile does and it makes me appreciate it that much more.

Skylar looks at me with the smallest of smiles, both irises sparkling with the afterglow of his mirth. My heart feels full as I stare back, the weight of my new gift digging into the palms of my hands.

"I know it's late, but would you want to watch a movie with me?"

"Do you want me to stay?"

I bite my lip and nod, watching his gaze flick from my face to the single bed against the wall.

"I'll stay then."

Quickly grabbing my laptop from my desk, I steal a couple of extra blankets from my closet before settling down on the bed. Skylar joins me soon afterwards, his frame just small enough so that we both fit on the bed side-by-side.

I pull him down so we're lying together, using a spare pillow to prop the laptop on my lap. Skylar's arm sneaks around my stomach as he shifts closer, wrapping himself around me.

"What do you want to watch?" My voice comes out breathless, the sudden proximity making my hands a little shaky.

Every time I'm around Skylar, I feel like I'm home. But the moment our skin connects, it's like suddenly I'm on the edge of a cliff, staring at the waves below, wondering if I'm going to make the jump or not.

It's exhilarating and petrifying all at the same time.

Skylar brushes my ear with his lips, causing a shiver to race through me.

"I'm not sure. I don't watch a lot of movies."

"Do you have a favourite?"

"Not really." His breath is warm and inviting and it takes all my energy to focus on the choices laid out in front of us.

"What about genres? Favourite or least favourite."

Skylar goes silent for a moment.

"I like everything but action."

A flush creeps up his cheeks when he catches the look of surprise that crosses my face.

"I know it's weird." He swallows, dropping his gaze to the screen in front of us, "I just don't like blood. Or violence."

I am such an idiot.

Scolding myself for not putting the pieces together sooner, I quickly bypass the action section and find something that is bound to have a happy ending.

"How does Grown Ups sound?"

Skylar relaxes against me with a nod of approval. Pressing play, I snuggle down and escape into Adam Sandler's world of comedy.

It doesn't take long for me to start laughing at the ridiculous antics playing out on screen. Skylar stays silent beside me, but I can tell he's enjoying it. There's a lightness to him that I haven't seen before, and with every laugh I make, it grows and expands into something more.

About halfway through the movie I feel Skylar's fingers dance across my skin.

There's nothing expectant about the touch, nothing sexual about the way he mindlessly draws on my arm as the movie plays out in front of us. Despite the way my heart is racing, the innocent touch doesn't feel like the pressure I'm used to. It doesn't feel like Skylar is being calculating about his movements to ensure something happens tonight.

Sneaking a glance at him, my feelings are confirmed. Skylar's eyes are glued to the screen, his head tilted toward mine as his fingers lightly sketch invisible pictures on my skin.

It hits me right then, that this is what a healthy relationship looks like. Being able to hang out with your partner without the burden of guilt or the fear of malicious words.

When I'm with Skylar, there are no expectations sexual or otherwise. He simply accepts me for who I am and doesn't question the ridiculous schemes I come up with.

I might not be complete, but he makes me feel about as close as I'll ever be.

"I should probably go."

His voice draws my attention back to the final credits rolling on the screen.

"Sleepover tonight. You can drive home in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

I nod, shifting my laptop so I can sit up in bed.

"I have a spare toothbrush you can borrow. Give me five minutes."

Sliding off the bed, I grab my sleepwear and face cream before slipping into the bathroom. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl with the excited eyes and permanent smile. For the first time in a long time, I look genuinely happy.

And not just on the outside.

Beaming at my own reflection, I quickly perform my ablutions before hunting down the toothbrush I promised Skylar. The entire routine takes less than five minutes, and I find him patiently waiting for me back in my room.

He takes the toothbrush without a word and disappears into the bathroom. The book he gifted me sits unopened on my desk and I walk over to grab it.

Flipping the pages to the symbol table outlined on the first page, I read the cursive handwriting and start to blush.

Yellow: Heavy petting with clothes on.

Blue: Basic finger foreplay.

Green: Oral sex.

Pink: First moment of entry. Missionary.

Red: Repeated intercourse. Mirrors and props.

"Everything okay?"

I snap the book shut and look up to find Skylar studying me. The heat in my face blooms, spreading down my neck and chest as I stare at the boy who outlined fictional orgasms for me .

His eyes flick down, following the blush to the exposed edges of my loose tank top. I squeeze my legs together, trying to ignore the ache building between them.

"Everything is great!" The high pitch of my voice has me cringing. My mind is stuck on the list of sexual acts he wrote out for me.

Was he thinking about me when he read those scenes?

I swallow thickly, wishing I was brave enough to ask the question out loud. Skylar hasn't moved from his spot in the doorway, his eyes carefully guarded as he looks at me.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"What? No. Not at all." An awkward laugh slips out, "Just the opposite."

A faint smile hits Skylar's face and the ache between my legs increases by tenfold. His hair is messy and a little wild from our movie and it makes me wonder what it would look like if we had watched the movie like a normal couple.

What it would look like if we hadn't watched the movie at all.

Heat pools between my legs as I think about the list he wrote out for me, the casual description he left for each colour. There's a quiet confidence about Skylar that makes me think he has a decent amount of sexual experience, but when it comes to knowing what he likes and desires, I am completely clueless.

"What are you thinking about, Flower?"

Caught mid-thought, heat flames my cheeks, "Well, uh, I was just wondering…"

I trail off, heart pounding when I make eye contact with the boy studying me from across the room. Skylar doesn't say anything, he patiently waits for my thought process to finish articulating.

"I was wondering if you have done any of those things. The ones you listed." I stutter the last bit, pointing to the romance book as if that might distract him long enough for me to run into my closet and hide from embarrassment.

"Is that a polite way of asking if I'm a virgin?"

My eyes go wide, "No! No, not at all. I mean, it's okay if you are but I didn't assume…" Catching sight of the humour flashing through Skylar's eyes, I stop mid-sentence and point accusingly at him.

"Deadpan humour is not allowed when we're talking about virginity."

He tilts his head, "Who said I was joking?"

"I know you are." Marching over to where he's standing, I point at his blue iris, "This one sparkles when you're joking while the other one," Jabbing my finger at the brown iris, a smile breaks across my face, "Turns into a pool of melted chocolate. I know you, Skylar. There's no fooling me with a straight face."

He smiles then, a real smile that chases away the shadows of his face and sets my soul on fire. We're close enough to touch and suddenly, I can't think of a single reason not to.

I reach up and trace the divots of his smile from his lips up to the crinkles of his eyes. My fingers brush over the edges of his cheekbones, silently thanking the fine bone structure that frames his face.

Skylar might spend his time making art, but he might be the most beautiful work of art I have ever seen.

"I'm not a virgin, Flower." He presses a soft kiss onto the palm of my hand, "And yes, I have done most of the items listed on there."

Skylar grabs my wrist and turns it slowly, tracing a finger over the pulse fluttering beneath the delicate skin. It's hard to remember how to breathe when he's touching me like this, making me feel like a new design he wants to memorize.

"The main character approached a few things differently than I would have." Running his finger from my wrist to my elbow, Skylar watches every micro shiver that goes through me, "I didn't like how fast he went through the green stage. I would have taken it slower so I could enjoy it more."

I swallow, watching Skylar's finger inch up my shoulder. His movements are precise and steady, exactly how you would expect an artist to be.

"Y-You enjoy oral sex?"

The stupidity of my question hits me immediately.

"Never mind, of course you like receiving-

"I didn't say receiving." He flicks his eyes to mine and I snap my mouth shut, feeling my panties dampen with the words left unsaid.

Skylar enjoys giving head .

Skylar

When I was reading the sex scene I outlined for Lacey, I had to stop to jerk off three times.

Not my proudest moment, but I hadn't realized how graphic those scenes were. The words were crude enough, but they were nothing compared to the pictures that got painted inside my head. Pictures that didn't feature the blonde heroine and the muscled up hero.

When the main character laid his partner down on the kitchen table to eat her out, it wasn't blonde hair I was picturing. It wasn't even the uncomfortable surface of a kitchen table.

Instead, it was dark curls splayed out on my bedspread while bright green eyes watched me from above. Flushed skin and freckles dancing along the pale stretch of her thighs while I slowly dragged my tongue over every inch of those impossibly long legs.

It might have been fictional characters getting off in the novel, but it was my flower that got me off in real life.

Lacey blinks rapidly, her cheeks flushed bright red. She looks nervous, unsure, and more than a little turned on.

"Have you ever been eaten out before, Flower?" I ask the question softly, trying not to scare her. My finger is still trailing up her arm, closing in on the bumps of her collarbone. I should stop touching her so she can have a moment to breathe, but her skin is so soft I can't help myself.

"No." She swallows, her eyes glued to mine as my finger reaches the thin strap of her tank top, "But I have given a blowjob before."

I pause, taking a moment to let her words sink in.

"You went down on your boyfriend but he didn't go down on you?"

Lacey bites her lip and nods, "He thought it was gross. Said it was too messy."

If I didn't hate this guy with every fibre of my being, I would feel bad for him.

Staring at the girl in front of me, I can't think of a single place I would rather be then buried between her legs. I would give up sketching in a heartbeat if it meant getting a single taste of her sweetness.

I lean in and press a kiss against her cheek. Her breath hitches when I press another one lower, on the edge of her jaw, before moving down to the tender flesh of her neck.

"You could never be gross, Flower. And messy is just the reality of sex."

Reaching the base of her throat, I flick out my tongue to taste the splatter of freckles decorating her skin. She lets out a whimper and I glance up at her.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

Lacey whips her head back and forth so fast it makes me laugh. Turning back to the precarious gift in front of me, I do what any excited kid before Christmas does.

Touch every inch of it before unwrapping .

Keeping my pace slow, I run my fingers down her ribcage, counting each one as I go. I drop my head and press a kiss right between her breasts, choosing to ignore the erect nipples pushing through the fabric. My fingers round the curve of her waist and dance back up her spine, memorizing every bump and dip of her vertebrae.

I want to strip her bare and study every inch of her body, but I don't want to push her too far tonight. Especially now that she's trying something new.

Carefully keeping her shirt in place, I gently push her back towards the bed. Lacey sits down clumsily, her eyes wide as she watches me sink to my knees and press a featherlight kiss to her stomach.

"Is this okay?" I whisper against her shirt, my hands already wrapped around the bare skin of her ankles.

"Y-Yes."

She trembles against me, her restless fidgeting growing stronger the closer my face gets to her centre. Nipping her hip bone gently, I sneak past her pulsing core and kiss the outer part of her thigh instead. She hisses out a frustrated breath and I smile, working my way down to where my fingers are wrapped.

"I think you missed a spot."

I glance up at the flushed cheeks and bright green eyes staring back at me.

The fantasy that wouldn't stop haunting me the other day is nothing compared to reality. Having her tender skin under my fingertips is a thousand times better than anything my imagination could conjure.

And I'm going to make sure she knows it.

"I told you I didn't like how fast the characters went." Flicking my eyes to the covered pussy waiting for a taste, my dick starts to stiffen, "So, I'm going to show you what I would do. Is that okay?"

Lacey blinks, her eyes glassy, "That's okay."

I bend down and press a kiss against the inside of her ankle. The bone juts out against my lips, so to make sure I cover every inch, I flatten my tongue against it.

Lacey jerks against my hold, her breathing growing heavy as I lick the seam of her ankle all the way up to her calf. My hand on her other ankle follows a similar trail, making sure both sides get an equal amount of attention.

By the time I reach the uneven bump of her knees, Lacey is clenching the bedsheets and squeezing her thighs together. It's adorable, seeing her fight for control, but the current position is blocking my trek upward.

Removing my tongue from her skin, I softly tap the back of her thigh, "Can you open for me?"

"Oh, sorry." She blushes and spreads her legs. I resume my path, letting my tongue mark every freckle and dimple on the way.

"Don't be sorry." I murmur, relishing in the fresh taste of her skin, "There is nothing to be sorry for. "

I reach the edge of her shorts, the upper part of her thigh, and that's when I almost break. A damp spot peeks through the light pink colour and I can see the outline of her panties pressing through the thin material.

My dick was hard before, but now it's fucking painful.

Resisting the urge to hump her leg like a stray dog, I reach up and tug the end of her pyjama bottoms.

"I'm going to take these off now."

She gives me a shaky nod and I drag the shorts down her legs. Black lace panties await me, the red roses dancing along the material momentarily distracting me.

"Flowers on my flower." Brushing the pretty design with my fingers, I lean in to get my first taste, "How fitting."

"Skylar, wait."

I rip my hands from her body and sit back on my heels. It physically hurts to stop touching her, but nothing matters more than Lacey being able to trust me.

Even if it almost kills me in the process.

She bites her lip, suddenly looking shy, "What if I don't taste good?"

Is she joking?

Torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, I can only stare at her, seeing the genuine concern etched across her face. She looks so defeated already that I don't know how to undo the damage Jerrell fucking Thompson left behind.

It's inconceivable to me that Lacey doesn't understand how badly I want her. How much time she spends in my head every second of every day. How many times I wake up in the night thinking about her smile. Thinking about her laughter.

She has me wrapped around her finger and she doesn't even know it.

"Flower." I meet her down casted gaze, hoping that she will understand, "It doesn't matter what you taste like. I'm going to enjoy it."

"How can you be sure?"

I sigh, "Because you're it for me, Flower. There is no one else."

The truth echoes around her bedroom, the weight of my words dropping like an anchor between us. Lacey starts blinking rapidly, tears shining through the lust in her eyes.

"You're it for me too, Skylar."

She whispers the secret tying us together, the unbreakable bond connecting our shattered souls. A thread engraved with Lacey's name pierces through my chest, tugging the fractured pieces back into place and sewing the bleeding lacerations closed.

I stare at her, unable to say anything else as my patched up heart beats painfully in my chest. A hint of uncertainty slips through her tender expression, the slight shift of her legs drawing my attention back to the question of whether I'm going to like what she tastes like.

As if I'm not going to like what she tastes like.

Reaching up, I press my finger against her damp panties. The wet edge of the lace has me letting out a groan and the sound only gets louder when I suck my finger into my mouth .

Lacey's gasp fills the room as she watches me, the flush on her cheeks quickly shifting from self-conscious to aroused. I meet her gaze and slowly pull out my finger, letting my tongue flick over the tip for good measure.

"You like it when I'm honest, so I'm going to be honest with you." I clear my throat, trying not to stare at the flush racing down her body, "You are fucking delicious and I am really looking forward to this. Do you have any other questions?"

She stares at me with dilated pupils, the desire painted in them reflecting the same one tenting my pants.

"I-I think I'm good."

"Is it okay if I continue?"

Her head drops in a nod and I let my fingers sink back into the soft flesh of her legs. Pushing her legs wider apart, I run my tongue up the inside of her thigh and press my nose against the black lacy material.

And then I breathe her in like she's the oxygen I've spent the last eighteen years waiting for.

"Oh my God." Lacey squirms against me, the material against my face growing damper by the second.

Fuck. She smells so fucking good.

I drag my tongue from the edge of her taint up to the flowers decorating the front of her panties. Lacey lets out a gasp, her bud swelling through the flimsy material. Using my teeth to grab the edge of the fabric, I drag the panties down over her legs.

She lifts her hips to help the process and I use the opportunity to tug her closer to the edge of the bed. Her breathing is heavy and uneven by the time I make it back to her pussy, and the sight almost makes me come on the spot.

I groan, reaching up to spread the glistening folds, "You're so wet."

"I'm so-

"Do not apologize." I cut her off, pulling one leg over my shoulder, "This is the best compliment a guy can receive."

Lacey blinks down at me, the vibrant shade of her eyes confirming its place as my new favourite colour.

I press a kiss against her swollen clit, "All I want you to do is tell me what feels good, okay?"

She shudders, her hands already back gripping the comforter.

"Okay."