Free Bittersweet by Sareeta Domingo Page A

lowers me down onto my back.
    Then he sinks his head down into the crook of my neck, and I slip my hands around his back and pull him toward me as he presses kisses onto my skin. He takes a deep breath, and then sighs a little and his muscles relax, letting his weight onto me more, his lips fluttering softly against my neck. I squirm a little, loving the feel of him on top of me, but also feeling a strange new warmth, different from the heat of a few moments ago. For some reason my movements slow down … and then stop.
    Greg tenses when I stop moving, then rolls to one side so that he’s not pressing down on me so much. He doesn’t move his head from my neck, and I get that feeling again; the swell in my heart, the feeling of his vulnerability. And my own, I guess. I tighten my arms around him, not sure what to say, or if I should say anything.
    We lay like that for a while, and I don’t understand what happened, but I know that whatever it is, this feels just as good. Maybe even better.
    “Greg,” I begin tentatively. He doesn’t say anything, but he presses closer in to me, like he doesn’t want to let me go. “I’ve never had a one-night stand before. Is that weird?”
    I hear him give a sort of breathy half-chuckle into my shoulder. “No.” He pulls his head out of the crook of my neck. “Not at all.” He looks sleepy and sexy and gorgeous. “I’ve never had one either.”
    I frown. “Bullshit.”
    “I haven’t!”
    I narrow my eyes at him. How can anyone this beautiful not have? Is he trying to tell me he’s not that kind of guy ?
    “You’re not a virgin, are you?” I ask with a wry grin.
    He laughs that laugh again, and then pushes up on one elbow, running his eyes up and down my body. He reaches over and traces his fingertips over the mounds of my breasts, then presses his lips against my chest, running his tongue teasingly along the edge of the cup of my bra. “What do you think?” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin.
    “Oh, definitely,” I whisper hoarsely.
    He pulls back and smiles down at me, but then his face turns serious. “I just don’t want us to rush into anything,” he says, his brow creasing like he’s in pain just saying that.
    “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” I retort, looking at our semi-clad bodies and intertwined limbs.
    “I think you might be right,” he whispers back, his eyes holding mine in a way that makes me wonder if there’s a double meaning to his words.
    “I’m a big girl, Greg. I know what I want.” I try to sound strong, decisive, but he’s gotten to me—with what he said in the car too. I have to wonder if it’s him who’s unsure about this. But what if he’s right to be worried? Am I really willing to take a risk of having my heart broken again?
    Shit.
    He’s still staring at me, and I have to look away. I feel Greg shift his weight, and he reaches a hand over to draw my face back toward his.
    “Hey,” he whispers. “You know what you want, huh. Do you want this?”
    He brushes his lips against mine, and I nod decisively.
    “Yes.”
    He kisses harder. His tongue slides along the seam of my lips, and I part them. After a moment he pulls back, then begins to kiss my neck once more.
    “This?”
    “Mmmhmm…”
    He keeps moving down, shifting again so that he’s back on top of me, and I writhe under him as his tongue slides over the dip at the base of my throat then down, in between my breasts. He slips his fingers under my bra straps and pulls them down, tugging so my chest is exposed. I feel my nipples tighten against the cool air and his warm breath. He flicks his tongue over one then the other, ever so lightly.
    “How about this?”
    “Yes.” I flush at the neediness in my voice, but then my back is arching because his whole mouth is over my left nipple, sucking, then he’s flicking his tongue, then sucking again. “Mmmm…” I moan.
    His chest presses in and out of my stomach with his quickened breathing, his