Becca and Justin are seventeen-year old next-door neighbors and she's still freaking out from the attack that I posted on Monday. She has a hard time getting close to him and the past couple times he's tried to kiss her she panicked.
"It's okay," she whispered, and he kissed her. Heat flooded through her and she tightened her grip on his hand. He didn't put his arms around her like he normally did, so she rested her other hand in the crook of his arm and traced his bicep with her fingers. Their lips parted and he pressed harder. Justin's free hand found her thigh and she moved closer, her senses spinning out of control. Something in the back corner of her mind watched over her, waiting for the fear to come. She tried to lose herself in the softness of his lips, in the sigh that came from deep in his throat and mingled with her breath, but the fear wiggled in, a pinprick of light that grew brighter and brighter until her body tensed and sweat trickled down her back. The light blinded her, squeezing her lungs until she thought she might die right there in Justin's arms. But she refused to give in. She loved Justin and couldn't bear to hurt him, to make him feel like he had to pay for his father's sins. She broke away from the kiss and smiled, pretending her chest wasn't about to explode.
Hmm, that's a little steamier than I realized. I also just realized that I'm two for two with sweat trickling down the person's back. I swear this doesn't happen that often.
Again, feel free to leave comments. Now pardon me while I get all smooshy inside.