Chapter Twenty-Four
I'd like to shout out to gooseles, author of the longest, best story on the board. Good job!
With a sigh I began to study the title of the books on the shelf. My eyes skimmed through them for a book to help me in my history project. Reaching at random, my hand fell on one about the French revolution. I pulled it out, and dust was dislodged and fell. I took a step backward.
As I began to turn around, two arms arrived on either side of me. I glanced down the aisle-no one else was visible. I spun around to face him, and found I had to tilt my head backwards to see more than his basketball jacket.
Sawyer Scott looked back at me, his eyes boring down at me. I rolled my eyes and pushed forward, but he didn't move an inch. His arms on either side of me held fast. I dropped my eyes from his, staring past his shoulder to the opposite shelf. I relaxed, and tried my hardest to pretend I didn't notice or care about how close we were.
He took one arm off the shelf beside me. I took advantage of this, trying to wriggle away in the empty space, but he quickly pushed forward, and our bodies were pinned together. I tried to ignore the sensation I felt as he pushed close to me and felt all my curves against his body. The arm went to my face, and he tilted my chin, forcing me to look at him again.
"What are you doing?" I asked, squirming again.
"What you think," he said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said stubbornly.
"You do Callie. You've been avoiding me for three days," he said.
"You ignored me for almost a week after the Charlotte incident," I reminded him.
"You weren't exactly going out of your way to talk to me. I've practically had to stalk you to convince you to talk to me," he said.
"Yeah, well, add sexual harassment to the list. Stop it," I said, attempting to swat his hand away as his fingers traveled along my collar bone, savoring the feel of them. For an instant I allowed myself to remember the feel of his lips on mine.
"If you want me to," he whispered into my ear.
"I'm not going to be your second choice. I refuse to be with you because you're in love with my sister," I declared.
"I'm not," he promised. He pushed a lock of my hair away from my face. Without my mind's permission, my hand shot out and met his.
"But you were before," I said persistently.
"Maybe. All I know is that I've known I was in love with you since you ran away to our house and slept in my bed. I've never had to try so hard not to touch you," he said. That was weeks ago. I hadn't thought of him like that until more recently.
"It was after that, with Jenny," I said softly.
"If you were handed something you'd thought of as a dream for five years, and even if you'd recently discovered if wasn't what you'd wanted, would you throw it away? Or would you test it?" he asked.
"Throw it away."
"You're a liar, Callie Jagielski," he said.
"That's not very nice."
"I think we can handle it," he said. We laughed quietly together. I took in the stillness of the library-we were very much alone. And I'd never been this close to him. Even when we'd kissed, there had been space between us. Now our bodies were completely melded together, mine was pressed up against the shelf.
I was caught off guard, lost in memories when he lowered his lips to mine. I was frozen in shock for a moment before my eyes fluttered closes and I opened his mouth, allowing him to explore it and reveled in the almost forgotten feel of his touch.
We were so close that I couldn't have pulled away if I wanted to. His hands moved from the shelf beside me to on me, around my body, touching things he'd only ever looked at. My hands ran through his hair, down his back, even bravely onto his backside.
"We can't do this here," I said, panting for breath. I'd pulled my lips away, but I was still held fast to him.
"Mm," he said, kissing me again. Against my better judgment I responded and we slid back into bliss.
"No, we have to go somewhere else," I insisted minutes later. He nodded, and reluctantly released me.
Sawyer steered me out of the library, his hand on the small of my back. He carried my books in his muscled arm. The few people that we passed in the halls stared at us in surprise.
I took a deep breath as we exited the school into the parking lot. The air was cool and fresh, as it was when expecting a storm or after one. He easily turned my body with one hand toward his car.
"You don't have to do that. I'm not going anywhere," I promised.
"You'd better not," he said, caressing my ear with his lips.
I sat in the passenger seat of his car as I'd done so many times before as we sped off.
As often as I he could, he took his hand of the wheel to reach over and fondle my bare thigh. Sometimes when he did this, I'd touch my hand on his and he'd begin to play with my hand instead, greeting me with the familiar sensations.
Eventually we ended up at his parent's beach house. I'd spent a lot of time there over the years, many sleepovers, barbeques, picnics at the beach. It was even more beautiful than the elder Scott beach house, further down.
It was pouring when we ran inside, hand in hand. He quickly unlocked the door and I ran inside ahead of him to flick the lights on.
I turned around in the newly bright room to face him, running my hands through my sopping hair as I did so. Our eyes locked and his hand hovered on the door, ten feet away from me. I saw his eyes hungrily take in the sight of me. My white shirt, plastered to my skin, didn't leave much to the imagination. My denim mini skirt had ridden up in the car and rain, exposing almost my whole thigh.
I slowly approached him, running the last few steps. I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist, kissing him again. While we kissed he walked up the stairs to the master bedroom and he dropped me on a king sized bed before climbing on top of me.
I took of my shirt and he unhooked my bra in a moment. His shirt came off and we stared at each other's bodies before continuing on to farther than anything I'd ever done.
But his hands were experienced. He knew what to do, when to do it, what to touch. He knew how to make me have an orgasm. He couldn't possibly know how incredible was.
I reluctantly stopped him as it was just about to happen.
"I can't do this," I said.
"Why not?" he asked in surprise.
"I'm a virgin, Sawyer. And I need more time," I said.
"Okay. Come here," he said. He rolled off of me and took me in his arms.
"What?"
"Nothing. I just want you here. With me," he said.
"Me too," I agreed.
Author's note: Just in case you're curious, this is so not the end. Ooh, and I got my first uncomplimentary review! How exciting.
