Diving Deep (UK Crush #2)

Chapter 4

I nodded, hugging him, hearing his strong heart beating through his shirt, smelling him all around me. Teddy filled my life, my world, in a way I couldn't have possibly imagined even two months ago, but I missed the other boys desperately, and the radio silence instigated by Matty was killing me. "Please tell me what to do," I whispered, turning my head up to kiss his jaw.

"Give it a few more days, that's what I think," he said, stroking my hair. "I have a feeling Matthew will be in touch. He'll realize that you're suffering, too, not hearing from him, and he doesn't want that, no matter what. He cares for you, and he'll want to know you're okay. I mean, this is the longest you've gone since you met without speaking, isn't it? He must be going mad by now."

I sat up to look Teddy in the eye. "That's what I don't get. He must know that I'm suffering. I mean, he knows me. He knows that I'm down here worrying about him and how he's feeling, that I'm not down here happy and full of sunshine; that's why I wrote to him in the first place!" I felt tears of frustration and helplessness coming, and rolled my eyes at once again succumbing to my fallback of crying.

I angrily swiped at them, and Teddy grabbed my hand, saying, "Hey now! Calm down, calm down, no need to take on so, come here, darling," and pulling me to him in a tight embrace, snuggling my chin into his neck, basically immobilizing me. He whispered, "Shh, shh," and twirled the short, fine, hairs at the nape of my neck, a move guaranteed to soothe me.

"Now I want you to put the whole business out of your mind, there's nothing more to be done about it right now. Do you still want to watch this scary movie, or should we just go to bed, hmm?" He finally released me and looked at my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs.

"Let's watch the movie, it's really, really good, very well made, supersedes the genre in almost every way," I said, sniffing. "You need to pay attention to the color palette, the cinematography, the sets, it's really amazing."

"Okay," he said with a smile, dropping a kiss on my nose. "Let's watch." He pulled me back, deep into the crook of his arm, and gathered my legs up onto the sofa, so he could put his hand under my thigh.

We got caught up in the movie, the depressing world of the mother, the hopelessness of her life, the horror that invaded it. The effects achieved, all without CGI, were astonishing, and we were holding each other tightly through most of the second half of it. We were both shaken and drained by the end, and stayed up to watch an episode of "Friends" as a palette cleanser before going to bed.

I was so tired that I asked to be carried to bed, and he spoiled me by indulging me on this, laying me down before going to brush his teeth. I was asleep before he came back, and I barely woke up when he took me in his arms. We fell asleep holding each other, without making love first, but I was awakened much later, long after the moon had set, during the darkest part of the night, when he reached for me, breathing heavily, already hard as a rock, to kiss me, tongue invading my mouth before I was completely awake. Fuck. How could he be so sexy in his sleep? He lifted me on top of him, tugging my night shirt over my head and pulling my torso down to him to attach his mouth to my breast before I'd even gotten my shirt all the way off. I wasn't sure how awake he was, as there was very little talking, unlike our usual love making, during which there was so much talking that it was almost an integral part of the act. I pulled his shirt over his head, and he pulled his boxer briefs down. He rolled me over so we were side by side, and he kissed me, mouth wide open, moaning as he did so, whispering, "Want you, want to love you..." He stroked my hair, stroked my whole body, lifted my leg over him and entered me with a gentle thrust and a deep, satisfied sigh. "Oh, god, the best feeling, the very best feeling, like becoming one person, you know? Ah, Birdie, my darling, I love you, I love you, I love you..."

Then silence, just slow in and out, with breathing, and occasional gasps as I tightened and loosened, timing my muscles with his movements. He put his right hand between us, putting his thumb right on my center, making me moan, making me push myself onto him.

"Fuck, getting so deep," he breathed, lifting my leg higher on his hip as he seemed to flex into me. "Mmm, god," he exhaled into my neck.

Then he grasped my shoulders, as he always did, leaving four fingerprint bruises on the front sides of them, calling my name, sending us shooting deliriously over the edge.

I grayed out for a few seconds, but I came back in time to feel him come, to hear him call my name and shudder and collapse into me.

We fell asleep that way, still joined together, the best, the closest feeling in the world, of feeling like we were one person, attached, one being, one consciousness.