Haunted

Nine

 As Myka continues to study me, I realize her expression is filled with desire. My cheeks quickly flare with heat, and I hope that the rest of my skin doesn't turn as red as my face.

Watching her, my body begins to long for . . . something.

But I ignore the unfamiliar urge, knowing that I should turn around and put this stupid bra on, along with the rest of my clothes.

Yet I'm frozen.

Myka's eyes meet mine, then flick down to my lips as she slowly sets her sketchbook onto the mattress. She stands, and my heart is pounding so intensely I'm worried she'll hear it from across the room.

When she begins to walk towards me, I swallow hard. The look of desire hasn't left her, and she doesn't stop until she's just inches away.

I lick my lips, not really sure what I'm feeling.

Am I nervous?

Yes.

Am I excited?

Yes.

Am I confused?

Heck yes.

I've only known this girl for a single day, and even after these twenty-four hours, known is still a strong word. But with her staring at me like this, I find myself wishing she'd just touch me already.

She must sense my need too, because her hand reaches out and moves towards my side. I hold my breath, noticing how her fingers are shaking slightly.

Then her skin makes contact with mine.

I've already felt her skin against my flesh several times, but this is different. So very different.

Myka's eyes glide over me as her fingers stroke the goosebumps on my flesh. From the wide of my hip to the narrow of my waist she traces a line, drawing a shiver from me. She meets my gaze and leans closer, her attention going from my heavy-lidded stare to my lips and back again. I find myself moving forward as her face inches down towards mine.

Am I seriously about to kiss a stranger? I mean, there are people who do this all the time, aren't there? So is it really that weird? I've already told her things that I've never shared with anyone else, and it's not like I'm using her.

For the first time in a long time, I want to get to know the person in front of me. I want to tell her the truth. I want her to know everything about me, and for me to know everything about her. I want her to stick around, and I want her to want me like I want her.

And fuck, I want her to kiss me so bad.

Myka's lips graze against mine and my eyes flutter shut.

Her other hand comes up and cups the back of my head as she applies more pressure to the kiss, making the butterflies in my stomach multiply significantly.

Whoa.

Is this what every first kiss feels like?

Her mouth moves against mine and I follow her lead, loving her taste, her smell, her touch, and the way her dark hair tickles against my cheek. The heat in my body spreads to areas that I want to be touched, and I find myself leaning closer, until the only thing between us is my arm and the fabric of her shirt.

My free hand rises and wraps itself around her hip, and I feel her smile against my lips as her breath hitches. She deepens the kiss, her fingers tracing across my stomach. I shiver again in response as I find myself wanting more. Needing more.

But it ends all too soon.

Myka pulls away hesitantly, and I suck in a breath as she places her forehead against mine. I open my eyes slowly, meeting the emerald green of her iris.