A Little Crazy

Chapter Nine

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Drew’s eyes opened to darkness; flashes of his fragmented dreams fogged his vision of the room. Something warm pressed against him and he pulled it closer. His hands tangled in silk that smelled like home, like Nora.

Sighing, he felt the emptiness inside him expand until it ached. It was always only a dream.

“Nora.” Drew murmured her name through dry lips, blinking into the darkness as something stirred against him.

Dark hair nestled against his neck. With a jerk, he lifted his head to peer down, wincing as a wave of dizziness and fatigue flooded through him.

Closing his eyes tightly, Drew shook his head before opening them again.

Only then did he remember waking to a surprised cry from the shower, how the familiar sound had pulled him forward as if by a cord tethered inside his chest. He remembered her body; the way the sun had danced along her wet, naked skin, and how certain he'd been that she couldn't be real.

His eyes moved over her face, the face he'd seen so many times as he'd looked at Ah Lin's drawing. It was so much more beautiful than he remembered. With trembling hands he brushed a piece of tangled hair from her forehead.

She shifted in her sleep and with easy familiarity, pressed her cheek against his chest. Her bare leg brushed against his before sliding higher to rest across his hip.

Drew felt her skin, her softness.

Even in his weakened state, his body stirred.

His arms shook as he lifted a hand to ghost along her body, over her shoulder, down her ribs. Her fingers twitched and he lifted them to his mouth, kissing her palm. Dark ink caught his eye and he shifted her arm to see. There, along her wrist and in Chinese characters were words so much like his.

  中 注 定 我 爱 他


Fated to love him

Drew’s thumb traced the newly inked skin; the significance of what it meant hit him like a solid push to the chest. She had marked herself — he was what she wanted to keep with her.

He was tired and weak, and his limbs trembled as he tried to support his weight. He kissed her wrist again, closing his eyes as he pressed his mouth to the words. Drew kissed her warm cheeks, her nose and finally her mouth.

She moved beneath him, her eyelashes fluttering along his cheeks. Sighing against his lips, she rolled him onto his back.

“You should be resting,” she said, without conviction, into his mouth.

His hands moved under her arms and to her shoulders, holding her close.

“You're sick,” she added, murmuring the words against his jaw.

“I’m better.”

“Drew.”

“Nora.” His hands moved to her hips, then lower, cupping her bare curves in his palms. “Please. I need this.”

She bit her lower lip as she considered.

“I'm fine,” he said softly, seeing the hesitation in her expression.  He reached to brush a piece of hair over her shoulder.

Her eyes moved across his face before her lips pressed to his. He moaned at the way she felt in his hands and at the way her scent seemed to fill the room. She opened her mouth and he felt himself harden between their bodies. Nora fit so perfectly against him: soft against hard, curve against angled muscle.