I remember when I was young and gas prices were feeble...less than $2.50...I miss that...And I also hate how my mom's new car is black...mine is gray...so totally unfair. Ah well, Green Eyed Sue (my car), gets me from A to B. And is big enough to survive a brawl with a big Chevy extended cab truck. And just because she's gettin' old does not mean that I can't just paint her black, and maybe put some skulls on her...hehe...-scheming-

Merry meet my anxious, excited readers. I have been getting comments and messages filled with all sorts of questions! You guys are becoming so antsy in your pantsies! Sadly my friends, I cannot give you that satisifaction with my words. I can only answer your questions through my writing ^_^ But it joys me to see how badly you all want to know-know-know! I don't blame you. If the shoe was on the other foot, I'd want to kill me. XDD

"OOOOOH!" Royal Pain ripped off her helmet and threw it to the floor of her lair, revealing the face of Gwen Grayson. She leaned back in her throne and crossed her leg angrily, and pressed her knuckles to her cheek, staring hatefully at the screen in front of her. There was her prized invention of long ago, The Pacifier.

Stitches peeked from behind the control panel where he'd ducked when Gwen had launched her helmet. Seeing her seething, glaring eyes, he decided that it was best to simply duck back down and remain where he was, safe from her strong hands that had a habit of choking him when aggravated.

"Stitches, I don't get it. I failed to get him to go to Homecoming, he just said," she mocked, "'Nah, I'm just hang stay in tonight. I'm expecting someone.'! Hell, I can hardly get this idiot to look at me! I've been inside his house three times! I can't get him up to his room! He just wants to study in the living room! I can't get this kid to even acknowledge me more than an occasional wave in the hallway! AGH!" Gwen pounded her fist into the arm of her throne.

Stitches winced from where he was hiding.

"What am I doing wrong? I've got just about every other boy in school drooling over me! Stupid little Stronghold whelp! AH! Is it my hair? Is it my hair, Stitches?" She grabbed at her long brown hair. "Does he prefer girls with short hair? Or does he like blondes? Redheads?"

Stitches peeked over the panel and suggested with a nervous giggle, "Not his type?"

"For god's sake, he's a fourteen year old boy! What type isn't a fourteen year old boy's type?" Gwen yelled, looking for something to throw at him in her lair. Not able to find anything, instead she kicked the control panel and he ducked behind it with a yelp. She ran her gloved fingers through her hair and stared at The Pacifier where it was onscreen.

From his hiding place, Stitches suggested, "Maybe he doesn't like girls?"

Gwen rolled her eyes, "Lunatic! He may be small and helpless and innocent…but I know he has interest. I've seen how he hangs around with that Layla girl. And I know he was slobbering over me the first day of school! He stammered and everything because his tongue was hanging so far out of his mouth! Maybe it's because he's nervous? God, I have to do everything myself don't I? I'm not gonna let this little runt defeat me!"

She stood up from her throne and Stitches peeked out from behind the panel.

"I will get back The Pacifier!" Gwen yelled.

"Yay!" Stitches cried, his trademark grin overtaking his face.

"I will have my revenge!"

"Yay!" Stitches exclaimed, raising his little fists into the air.

Gwen turned, her cloak billowing around her, "Now for some scheming!"

"I'll go make scones and tea to help with the scheming!" Stitched exclaimed, joyfully thrusting a finger into the air, and he bustled and bounced out of the secret lair, his giggles echoing off the walls.

~Will's POV~

I thought it was nice that Gwen invited me to sit at her table with Penny, the school cheerleader who made up the whole squad with her doppelgangers, and a couple other of her senior friends. She really seemed happy that I accepted her invitation to sit beside her. Even a little excited. On the inside, the real reason I sat down at their table was because it had an amazing view of Warren across the cafeteria.

His head was bent over a magazine as usual or maybe it was a comic…I'd never gotten close enough to see. His long hair hung around his face, like a dark curtain. I licked my lips and swallowed when he lifted his gloved hand from the surface of the table he was sitting at. Then he tucked the curtain on the left side of his face behind his ear.

God…he's so…beautiful… I doubted anyone else in the school would ever describe Warren Peace as beautiful. Dark. Scary. Dangerous. Maybe the mortal girls thought of him as the dangerous bad boy sexy, because most of them couldn't recognize how dangerous he really was.

But my attention was so drawn to him. I was still worried about him since gym class a couple days ago. In the showers his skin had felt so cold. I'd never known him to feel even placidly room temperature. Without being on fire, his skin always felt like a burning furnace. But he'd been cold. And in the past four days, he'd been doing an even more thorough job of avoiding me. He hadn't even been to my house.

"So what do you think?" Gwen asked.

"Huh? Oh. That's definitely not a ray. It's a beam." I said, looking at the picture that Gwen was pointing at in her Mad Science textbook. Oh wow…I'm getting really good at this…

Gwen raised her eyebrows and smiled, "Impressive."

I looked up from the textbook, noticing Layla, Magenta, Zack and Ethan coming from the kitchen with their trays. I raised a hand, "Hey! Guys! Over here!"

They smiled. Magenta mumbled something to them as they approached, it seemed that Zack replied. And when they were almost to the table, I jumped when a glittery spark of orange light burst. And all of a sudden, I was sharing the table with five more Pennys. One of them smirked and mocked, "Sorry!"

"All full!" Another teased.

My friends frowned and Layla said, "That's okay. I think I see a table over there guys." Then they walked away.

My mouth was hanging open, and my eyebrows were somewhat lowered. One of the Pennys turned toward me and opened her mouth to say something. But I cut her off angrily. And all the Pennys jumped back in surprise.

"For god's sake, Penny! What the hell was that? Those are my friends!"

"…Will…gimme a break…they're," One of them started.

"My friends!" I repeated and then I got to my feet, picking up my tray. "And you're just a conceited bitch." I looked down at Gwen whose eyes were wide with surprise. "Sorry Gwen. I don't think I get along with your friends." I glanced around at the Pennys. It seemed like they were speechless for once in their…her life. It was as if they'd never been talked to like that before. Something told me that it was about time.

So I left that lunch table behind and walked after my friends. I was pretty sure I heard Gwen growl behind me, "Nice going, Penny…"

They all looked up at me as I sat down. I placed my tray down and picked up my bottle of orange juice. I glanced around at them and unscrewed the cap. "I'm sorry about that guys."

Zack was the first to speak, "Hey it's okay, man."

Ethan and Magenta nodded quietly. I looked at Layla who was pouring some dressing over her salad. She looked at me and smiled, "You can make it up to me."

I snorted, "Oh god. Paper Lantern?"

Layla laughed, "Your treat."

I nodded then looked at everyone. "You guys wanna go? Eight tonight?"

Zack's excited smile faded, "Eight? I can't. On Thursdays it's family movie night starting at eight." Magenta cocked an eyebrow, "Family movie night? Isn't that a little sitcom-y?" Zack rolled his eyes, "I know. Mom's afraid we're gonna become a family that watches TV in separate rooms and IM each other when dinner's ready. She's even got us eating at the table now. That didn't exactly help anything the first time because Vicky suddenly powered up one night and all the silverware attached itself to her face…like some sort of fridge magnet…"

Magenta snorted. I couldn't help it either. I knew Zack's nine year old sister well. The fact that she'd powered up long before she was going to enter Sky High made me proud of her.

Zack nodded, "I know. Now Mom's got all the silverware in a box. Do you have any idea how hard it is to cut a steak with a plastic butter knife?"

We laughed. And I shrugged, "Okay then. How about you Ethan?"

Ethan shook his head, "Not allowed out of the house after 8pm on weekdays. My parents are really concerned with my sleep levels possibly affecting my schoolwork."

I looked to Magenta, "Maj?"

She shook her head as well, "If it's the same Chinese restaurant I'm thinking of, I do my best to avoid that place during the late shift."

"Why not?" Layla asked. "Is there something wrong with the late shift? I've never gone there past six."

Magenta stirred her fork in her pasta lunch and shrugged nonchalantly, "I punched one of their busboys in the eye." We all paused. Then we looked down at our food. Whatever the story was, we all knew that it was probably one that was best to simply be left alone.

So I sighed and sipped my orange juice, "Well, I guess it's just you and me tonight Layla," I smacked my lips and applied a British accent, "I shall meet you at the Paper Lantern at precisely eight o'clock sharp."

Layla munched on a radish and went along with my game, speaking with an equally British voice, "I shall be at said establishment right on the dot."

Zack chuckled, leaning his head back, "I love random moments with accents. They make me feel all happy." I nodded, "I'm sure they do, Zack. You got a little ketchup on your shirt." I pointed.

Zack leaned back, looking down at one of his trademark, bright neon yellow shirts, "Aw, man! That blows…this is my favorite shirt." Ethan frowned, "I thought the other bright yellow shirt was your favorite?" Zack shook his head, gingerly dabbing his napkin in his Sprite, "No I changed my mind. But I guess the other bright yellow shirt is gonna be my favorite again…"

It felt good to really sit and just hang out with them again. Enjoy the little things I suppose. And there was another plus. If I tilted my head slightly to the left and looked over Layla's shoulder, I had a perfect frontal view of Warren. I could still feel that worry stirring in the pit of my stomach. I hoped he would come around soon.

Wait…come around to what? I don't exactly mean that much to him…in fact I'm pretty sure he still hates my guts…and that's not likely to change…

There was a knock on the door while I was in the living room doing my homework. Mom called from the kitchen, "Will! Can you get that? I'm kinda wrestling with the roast!"

I put my pencil down in my notebook where I was scrawling hurriedly. Mom said it'd be okay for me to meet Layla at the Paper Lantern, but only if I completely finished my homework first. She'd gotten a call from Medula to let her know that I was missing two assignments out of fifty-two which is not the most acceptable in Mom's eyes. Not that she really voiced it. She seemed to think that I was in some delicate, changing, hormonal stage in my life and it was easier to communicate with me if she was my teenaged friend as much as she was my mother.

She had subtly sort of hinted at me to do the two late assignments while she was tying up the roast for the big romantic dinner she had decided to have with Dad on account that I would be out of the house for most of the evening. But at this rate, this hard-ass homework was taking me a little longer than I had expected. It was almost twenty-eight minutes past eight o'clock already. It would take me maybe twenty, twenty-five minutes to run there. Layla didn't have a cell phone so I wouldn't be able to call her to let her know about my lateness. But that was okay, I didn't have one either.

But as I hopped up, I was pretty sure that she would be understanding enough about my homework excuse. Plus, if I needed more proof, I could tell her to ask my mom who would tell the truth to the most accurate degree with a bright as-a-matter-of-fact-ness.

I hurried to the door and pulled it open.

There was Gwen Grayson standing there. She offered a sweet smile. "Hi, Will."

I bit my lip and put my hand against the doorway, "Uh, hi Gwen."

There was a moment of silence before both of us started to speak, "Listen, I'm,"

There was a pause.

Then, "You go,"

Then we both sighed and smiled at one another lightly.

I reached up and rubbed at my chin, "Gwen, I'm really sorry for…well, basically exploding at lunch today. I hope I didn't embarrass you or get you into a fight with Penny."

Gwen was already shaking her head, "No, no. It's okay really. I'm the one who should be apologizing. Penny can be a little, well, erratic sometimes."

I licked my lips nervously, "I really am sorry if what I said made you two mad at each other or more likely at me."

Gwen shook her head, "I'm not mad. Penny's ego is a little sore but she'll heal up just fine." She smiled, giving me the go to smile back.

I really did feel bad about that afternoon. And I didn't want to upset Gwen. She was nice and a big help on my Mad Science work. I hoped that she didn't expect me to apologize to Penny though. That I wouldn't do, because I meant what I said. I was just a little surprised that I had had the guts to say it.

Warren might've been proud of me had he seen it.

"Will?"

"Huh?"

Gwen smiled lightly, "You were staring at me."

"Oh, uh, sorry." I said. I may have been staring but I didn't see you. I thought. Ever since the first time I had had sex with Warren in the boathouse in the park, I had gotten pretty good at drifting away when I merely thought of his name.

"Listen uh, I've got some homework to finish. I have two late assignments for Medula." I said. Gwen's eyebrows raised. I nodded, "Yeah I know. But I'm working on them. So I'll talk to you in school tomorrow?"

She smiled and nodded, "Yeah, Will. I'll see you in the Mad Science lab."

"Okay, good. See ya." I said, starting to close the door.

"See ya." She said and then she was behind the shut door. I turned and scampered back into the living room. I got a look at the clock and let out a nervous, pressured gaggle of groans. I flopped onto the couch and picked up my pencil and started scrawling so fast that my writing was barely legible. It was well past 8:30pm. And ticking closer and closer to nine.

"Hey! I'm home!" I heard Dad yell from the foyer as he gently closed the door.

"Hey Dad!" I called, flipping a page in my textbook and cursing profoundly under my breath when I saw that I had to do four more problems.

"Can't wait to see what you got cooking in there Josie!" Dad came into the living room and set down his briefcase and overcoat. "Hey, kid. Whatcha doin'? Thought you were going to meet Layla."

I scoffed, "I am. Once I finish this awful homework."

Dad chuckled, "Made a deal with the boss huh?" Then he sniffed a couple of times, "Is something burning?"

As if on cue, the smoke detector started going off, and Mom started shrieking, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" over and over again.

Me and Dad sprinted into the kitchen. Mom was wearing oven mitts and smoke was billowing from the oven. She threw open the door a bit too quickly and the racks inside spilled onto the door. The roast that Mom had been cooking was now a mini bonfire.

I started freaking out.

Mom was freaking out.

Dad was freaking out.

The sprinklers came on over our heads and started showering us with water and we all started freaking out some more.

But the water from the sprinklers put the roast out. Dad went running to the control box to turn off the sprinklers as me and Mom bounced around in the kitchen, blinking cold water out of our eyes. And then the water stopped falling down on us and the smoke detector stopped bleeping obnoxiously. Dad reentered the room and I brushed my hair out of my eyes. Mom readjusted her glasses and looked at the charred remains of her roast.

"Oh, no…" She started.

"Mom, it's alright." I said quickly.

Dad hurried forward and pulled her into his arms, "Josie it's okay." She heaved a sigh, and brushed the tears out from under her glasses, "I wanted everything to be perfect tonight. Not set the house on fire!"

"Shh, shh. It can still be perfect. C'mon, Josie. Remember that new Greek restaurant we flew over last week? Do you? We can go there tonight. It can be just as perfect and just as romantic as you had planned."

"But, it,"

"No, no. It's okay."

"I'm a mess!" Mom cried.

I reached up and rubbed at the back of my neck. I hated to see Mom cry.

Dad laughed, "That's okay!" Then he picked her right up off of the ground. She exclaimed, "Whoa! Sweet Mary mother of Joseph!"

Dad laughed and twirled her around in the air, then headed with her out of the kitchen. "Don't worry Josie. I think you look sexy with your hair wet! C'mon! Let's take our soaking wet rears to the car and drive over to Helena's and waltz in there like we own the joint!"

"Steve! I don't know,"

Dad simply laughed harder, "See ya in the morning, Will!"

"See ya!" I called, a little mystified but happy nevertheless.

I reached up and rubbed at the back of my neck, hearing the car doors open, Mom's perplexed giggles, Dad's roaring laughter. Then I heard the car doors shut and Dad drive out of the driveway to leave White Hills behind. I sighed quietly through my nose and looked around the kitchen. I brushed my wet hair back and sighed again. I smiled, thinking of Mom's face when Dad lifted her into the air as if she were a child. I hope they have a good time.

Then I set to work. First I threw out what was left of the roast, and washed the pan in the sink, also washing the cutting board and the knives that Mom had used in the preparations. I wiped down the oven and then closed the door. I swept the water from the counters into the sink, as much of it as I could direct into it anyway.

Then at last I went to the closet and got the mop. Contently I started mopping up the kitchen. I was wringing the mop out in the sink when I remembered what I was doing before the roast burst into flames.

"Shit." I whispered and my eyes darted to the clock. It was past nine. I dropped the mop and darted out of the kitchen, "Shit! Oh man! Damn it!" I grabbed my jacket, and ignored the last four unfinished problems in my homework, thinking that I'd do them when I got back or something. I sloppily yanked on my Converse without tying the laces. I had one arm through the sleeve of my jacket and the other hand on the doorknob. When I yanked open the door, I froze swiftly in my tracks.

He cocked an eyebrow down at me as his dark eyes bore into me. His gaze flicked to my jacket which was hanging off of my arm, to my untied sneakers and then back to my eyes. In my head I could almost hear him gruffly ask something along the lines of, Where the fuck do you think you're going?

Even when he took a step forward, giving me a good one-handed shove to the floor, I was still in shock. He was here. I wondered what was going through his head, if he was angry with me for what had happened in the showers.

All of my thoughts fled my mind when he closed the front door behind him and knelt down beside me. He glared into my eyes, and I started to feel my heart race. A shiver went down my spine and then right back up it. He said nothing, he just glared at me. He did nothing, he just tilted his head like a predator at me.

I wanted him so badly to say something. To do something. His studying eyes were peeling away the layers of myself. Making me afraid. Making me vulnerable. Making me…excited. There was something in his eyes that was different though. Like he was puzzled perhaps. Something in me urged my hand to reach and touch the side of his face. Feel his clenched jaw, and give him comfort. To feel that he was warm again. The last time I had touched him, he had been so cold. So angry. So hurt.

Finally he moved. He reached with his bare hand and yanked my jacket from my arm and harshly tossed it across the foyer. He grabbed the toe of my sneakers and one at a time ripped them from my feet. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and stood, dragging me toward the stairs. My breath was coming quicker as I hurriedly crawled, attempting to keep my feet.

At the top of the stairs he threw me against the wall. I grunted at the impact and then his bare hands were slipping under the hem of my shirt. I gasped and cried out at the heat against my chest. It was familiar but at the same time so new. My wounds had healed in his absence. It was like being marred for the first time all over again.

I yelled out when he gripped my sides with blazing hot fingers, clawing into my skin. I swear I could feel the heat penetrating right through my insides until it went right through to my skin again. He tossed me like a rag doll to the floor in front of my bedroom doorway. And I felt my already throbbing sides become bludgeoned by the toe of his boot. I shouted out, squeezing my eyes closed.

My scalp burned when he seized my hair in his fist. He dragged me into my room and threw me onto the bed. My hands went to my hurting sides and pressed into them hard, making me gasp at the pain. I clenched my teeth and whimpered. He slammed my bedroom door closed behind him. He looked to me, and saw me heightening the pain he had given to me. My eyebrows were arched upward and I looked with frightened, hurt eyes into his.

He shrugged his leather jacket to the floor, freeing his strong, muscular arms left bare by his sleeveless black shirt. His hard leather wristband was buckled around his wrist as it always was, except the buckles were turned outward instead of resting against the inside of his wrist. And then he stepped with even steps across my room to where I lay shuddering against the sheets on my bed. I watched him stare down at me, his long, dark framing his face.

I winced and whimpered when he dragged my shirt upward and yanked it off of me, tossing it to the floor. Then I yelled out when I felt his hand light up with fire against my back. I screamed when I felt his fingertips run like razorblades up and down my back. I remembered how it felt as if he were slicing open my skin and sending the pain of his fire deep within my muscles.

Then he gripped my hair in one of his fists again and yanked me up from lying on my bed to my knees. I whimpered and trembled and then screamed when his free hand clawed down my chest starting at my breastbone. He was so close I could smell him. I could feel the bareness of his white hot chest. I had had no idea that he had taken off his shirt. I had missed the searing hotness of him. I had missed everything so much. The darkness of his eyes. The feel of his fire ravaging my skin. The feel of his presence all in all and all the things he did to me and how he made me feel.

My erection was straining against my jeans, crying for release. But if he had noticed, he did his very best to ignore it. His burning hand raged across my chest, making me moan and scream. I felt his breath against my neck, and then his teeth sunk hard into my shoulder. I writhed against his touch, yelling out, feeling his teeth break my skin, and draw blood.

Then he yanked the button loose on my jeans and pulled the zipper down. He released my hair and shoved me back down onto my mattress. My hands gripped the sheets and I felt tears brim my eyes as he yanked my boxers and my jeans right off of me, and deposited them onto the floor. And then I screamed when his hands looped around my ankles and agonizingly slowly began to drag their flaming touch up my legs.

He made thorough work, making every visible inch of my legs and my back tender and marred by his fiery touch. Things became familiar again when he grabbed my thighs and shoved them under me, parting them so I was entirely open and exposed to him. My breathing was quickening so much that I could have been hyperventilating. Even while I was burning up, I could feel goose bumps scuttle across my skin as I trembled in anticipation upon hearing a condom wrapper tear. My penis was pressing painfully against my bed, untouched and aching.

But I couldn't let go of the sheets, especially when he shoved himself deeply inside me, immediately brushing against that one spot. I gasped, dark spots danced across my vision, and the burning pain of his penetration bloomed like a fire itself. I heard him groan through his teeth, and he drew back, and thrust hard back into me. It felt like an earthquake of agony started shaking through me as he picked up a hard and swift pace, clasping my hips with his bruising, fiery grip.

Each one of my screams seemed to egg him on. He drove harder and harder into me. My stomach was erupting in extreme heat, and little bugs of pleasure and pain were scuttling all around my insides as he kept hitting that one spot inside of me. I tried to swallow with my nearly suffocating breath. My mouth had gone so dry and yet my eyes were so wet.

This was the hardest he had ever thrust into me. It was a dance of agony and heightening pleasure. His hands shifted, blazing fiery trails all across my abused back. Up and down my shuddering, hurting chest. I could hardly breathe. My muscles were tensing so hard and the chords in my neck were clenched. He clawed his fingertips down my breastbone, driving a scream from my lungs. I squeezed my eyes shut, writhing and squirming under him while he administered more of his heat, driving me insane with the wonderful, amazing agony.

I was sobbing against my sheets, gripping them tightly in my hands. He gripped the back of my neck, pushing me into the mattress, his other arm hooked around my squirming waist, keeping me where he wanted me as he thrust in and out of my insides. His skin was aflame and I felt as if the force of a mountain were pressing down on me. I was so close to falling so hard over the edge that I wondered if I would go into a coma.

I gathered what was left of my control and I started pushing myself back to meet his thrusts. I heard his gasp and his growl. I felt him pulse within me and grow even hotter inside of me. Fireworks exploded in my skull, and I came, screaming out loudly as I did. I heard his grunt and his husky exhale.

For a second it was dark, but I was brought back to consciousness when I felt his big hands pressing down on me, supporting himself as he panted. My head was turned to the side. My body was trembling and twitching. My panting was laced with shudders and gasps. And I couldn't move at all. My shivering limbs were plagued with tingling tremors, as if they had fallen asleep.

It took him a moment to gather himself over me. And then I felt him shift and move off of the bed. His zipper was yanked back up and his belt clinked as he buckled it. I felt his footsteps move across the floor and leave my room. I let my eyelids sink entirely closed. The darkness was wrapping around me, but I couldn't fall asleep. As always I was going to be a satisfied, vulnerable prisoner of this trembling paralysis until I recovered from it. Left here like usual after Warren had finished with me. I didn't mind. I welcomed what he gave to me.

My eyes shot back open when I heard movement in the hallway. Oh no. Mom and Dad. I tried so hard to move, to get myself out of this exposed position I was in. I couldn't be found like this. What would they say if they saw the marks all over my body? I struggled to make myself move, willing my hands to push me at least off of the bed and out of sight.

But I couldn't and the footsteps came to my open doorway. Fear jumped to my mind. I tried to think of things to say to them. Excuses. Something. But I couldn't. I was paralyzed, exposed and scared. And I was about to be discovered. Unable to think, I simply closed my eyes, not wanting to see it happen.

And I was discovered. Another gasp and shudder ripped through me as I laid there in my trembling, frozen state. I could feel eyes falling onto me.

I could feel them in my doorway. I could the eyes staring across the room at me as I gasped, shuddered, trembled and shivered. And then I heard footsteps slowly come into my room. I heard each step across the floor. And they stilled. I could feel a presence standing over me where I lay. Shame crept through my heart and shadowed my mind. I felt tears come to my closed eyes.

And then my bed dipped as someone sat on the edge of it. A scent came to my nose. Spicy fire and leather. I pulled open my eyes and looked. There was Warren.

His chest was unclothed. His dark hair hung about his face as he stared down at me. Through my blurred vision from the tears, I couldn't see his eyes very well. Even in my current quivering paralyzed state, I learn that I could still feel. I felt his warm hand push me until I was collapsed on my side, my hands splayed on the sheets in front of me. I blinked away my tears, and looked up at him.

His face was expressionless but his eyes…his dark eyes seemed…warm. Smoldering like a gentle campfire.

His warm hand left my skin and he passed something from his other hand into it. I looked to it. It approached me, but hesitated. And then came closer to me until I felt something warm and damp against my chest. Warren softly brushed it halfway down my chest, and then placed it against my collarbone. It was a wet washcloth I realized. He was cleaning my chest of the semen from my orgasm with the upmost gentleness.

I looked back to his eyes. But he only had a gaze for what he was doing. But why is he doing this…? I asked myself blearily.

He dragged the cloth once more from my stomach to my breastbone and then lifted it from my skin. He passed the washcloth back to his left hand and settled his right hand against the bed. I found his eyes looking to mine again. I recognized that puzzled look from earlier, but it wasn't as intense. It was more placid, warm and looked more confused than puzzled. His eyebrows were lowered slightly in concentration as he stared into my eyes.

He lifted his right hand from the bed, and reached toward my face. His hand hesitated like it did before, twice this time. But very slowly he eventually placed his big, warm palm against my left cheek. I wasn't sure if my gasp was from the unfamiliar touch, or an effect of my current state. His thumb stroked under my eye, brushing away the tear tendrils. His skin was so warm and comforting.

It wasn't like anything I had ever felt before. I'd known his hands to grow intensely hot, and spread agony across my body like a pleasurable inferno. I'd known them to cause me such pain and pleasure. But I had never known them to be gentle, and to comfort me.

His head tilted slowly to the left. His lips parted slightly, but closed again. His hand moved around to cradle the back of my head, his warm fingers gently moving through my hair. He leaned down slightly, hesitation and confusion plain within him. He paused three times until I could feel his warm breath against my lips.

I closed my eyes, and felt his warm lips softly press against mine. A noise sounded in my throat, and a shudder overtook my chest. His hair was brushing my face. The warmth of his lips seemed to chase away the chill in my face, and slowly spread through my body.

He pulled away slightly. I could still feel his breath mingling with mine. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, feeling my eyebrows arch upward again. I could see the confusion in his eyes, and what seemed like nervousness. His fingertips were brushing slightly against my scalp. He leaned down again, bringing my face closer to his. And his lips found mine again.

He brushed his tongue slowly across my top lip, chasing away my shivering. He drew my lower lip into his mouth and gently sucked on it, banishing my trembling. Then Warren brushed my hair back from my face, his lips capturing mine one last time. And then he pulled away. I looked up at him, fighting the sinking of my eyelids as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

I'm not sure when, but I fell asleep. My body was void of the shuddering, the twitching, the gasping and the quivering. I was warm and comfortable under my blankets. Never had I felt so peaceful and at ease upon drifting away to sleep.