Free Sweet Nothing by Mia Henry

leaves Luke’s lips it sounds hot. And I like that he sees the kid in me too, the part of me that doesn’t have it all together. It’s like he’s glimpsed the real me, and he’s not turning away.
    “I don’t feel strong,” I murmur. It feels good to tell the truth. “Not today, anyway.”
    “Well, you obviously don’t see what I see,” Luke says softly. With both hands, he reaches out and strokes the studs in my ears with his thumbs. His fingers graze my neck, sending electric jolts through me. My body is warm, and strung so tight I don’t trust myself to breathe. I want him to kiss me. I want him to protect me. And I know I should leave, but I can’t.
    “Luke, I—”
    And then his hands are gripping my shoulders and he’s pulling me into him. And his mouth is on mine, so warm and sweet that my mind goes blank and my body is shaking with anticipation. I kiss him back, hard. In this moment, there is nothing standing between us: not my past, not my lies, not my deceit. There’s only Luke and me. His eyes, my mouth, his hands, my hips.
    Luke’s tongue searches my mouth. Gentle but strong, exactly like him. I run my hands through his thick, dark hair, almost clawing at him. I want him so badly it aches. I lean back, let my head rest on the arm of the couch, trying to get my bearings as he explores me with his mouth: my neck, the hollow at the base of my throat, then the outline of my ear.
    “I’ve wanted to do this since the second I saw you,” he whispers, his words soft on my neck.
    I say nothing, just gasp as he bites my lip. Tracing my collarbone with his fingers, he stops, teasingly, just short of my breasts, but my nipples harden beneath the silk of my dress anyway. He notices and smiles.
    I want to devour him. No. I want to give in to him, to let him take control.
    His lips find mine again, and just as quickly, I feel the chill of air-conditioning where his warmth has been. My eyes snap open. He’s pulled away.
    “Everything okay?” I sit up. “What’s wrong?”
    He doesn’t answer, just watches me for a few seconds. My heart is still pounding in my ears.
    “Yeah. Fine. Stay right there,” he instructs me, bounding off the couch. “Don’t move! I’ll be right back.” He cuts across the chapel and throws open one of the doors close to the entrance. A bathroom, I think. “Seriously! Don’t move!”
    “Clearly, it was as good for you as it was for me,” I mutter under my breath, straightening my dress. It’s been a while since I’ve made out like that—okay, made out at all—but am I seriously rusty enough to send a guy running to the bathroom?
    “Okay. I’m back. Just stay… right there. God, you’re beautiful.” Luke emerges holding a cylindrical oatmeal container wrapped in black duct tape.
    “What the hell is that?”
    “Pinhole camera, from my darkroom. I made it myself—takes awesome pictures.
    Mind if I take yours?”
    “Um, yeah. Sure. Fine.” Ignoring his instructions, I swipe at my bangs.
    “Elle. Sloane. Stay. Still.” He tilts the container toward me, like he’s looking through a telescope, and peels a strip of tape away from the lid. “See, there’s this tiny little hole here, and when you peel the tape away, it lets light in and captures your image on photo paper.” He replaces the strip of tape and sets the camera on the coffee table.
    “Well, I can honestly say that’s the first time anyone stopped making out with me to take my picture.” I punch him in the arm.
    “I know, I’m sorry. I’m a photography nerd. Didn’t mean to put the brakes on so fast. It’s just…” he collapses next to me and grins. “I want to remember you like this. You’re… I think you’re perfect, Elle.”
    I search him for any sign that it’s a line, and find nothing but warmth in his eyes. So I do the unthinkable. I believe him.

chapter nine
    Elle,
     
    Sorry for inviting myself down there. I know you have your own life going, and you don’t need your pesky