Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“Morning,” Gibsie acknowledged, sinking into the passenger seat of my car on Tuesday morning. “How’d training go yesterday?” “I fucked up!” I blurted out. “You fucked up?” Gibsie arched a brow as he buckled himself in. “In training?” “No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t go.” “Why not?” “Because I fucked up!” “How?” “Fuck.” Groaning, I shifted into gear and pulled away from his house. “So fucking bad.” Tightening my hands on the wheel, I released a pained growl. “So fucking, fucking bad, Gibs.” “Are you going to say anything other than the word fuck?” he drawled as he pulled a blank CD out of his schoolbag and slid it into my CD case. “By the way, I burned this for you last night,” he added with a smirk. “I think you’ll enjoy it.” “Thanks,” I grumbled, too distracted to concentrate on anything other than my raging thoughts. “Now,” Gibsie said, pulling out a box of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips and sparked up. “Are you going to tell me how you fucked up?” “Roll the window down,” I grumbled. “You know I can’t stand the smell of those things.” “I presume this meltdown has something to do with little Shannon?” he offered as he rolled the window down and exhaled a cloud of smoke out of it. I nodded again, feeling panicky. All night, I had been waiting to get this shit off my chest. I could hardly breathe with the pressure in my body—that, and my regrets, and the smell of her on my sheets. I couldn’t even enjoy having dinner with my da, something that because of conflict...

“Focus, Gibs!” I barked as I pulled into the car park. “It was bad. Really fucking bad.” “How bad?” he asked. I drove into my usual parking spot and killed the engine. “How bad, Johnny?” Gibsie coaxed. Exhaling a pained growl, I turned in my seat to face him. “She kissed me.” Gibsie eyes lit up. “Yeah?” I nodded. “On my bed. In a towel. Looking like a fucking wet dream. She just fucking put her mouth on me, Gibs.” “In a towel?” “Ma had her clothes, remember?” I strangled out. “She was wrapped in a towel and nothing else.” Gibsie grinned. “Nothing else?” “Nothing else,” I repeated, enunciating the word nothing. “Did you see—” “Yes,” I snapped and then groaned loudly. “Fuck.” “And?” “Perfect.” “Fuck.” “Yep.”

“You can’t do it. It’ll never work. Give up now.” “Yes, it will,” I hissed. “It has to.” “Why does it have to work?” he asked. “Because I need her—” I shook my head and expelled another frustrated breath. “Because I want to keep her in my life.”

“You want to keep her, period,” Gibsie countered. “Because you are ass over tit in love with that girl.”

“Slut!” Bella called out, loudly enough to garner everyone’s attention. I groaned internally. “That’s right,” she hissed when my step faltered. “I’m talking about you, slut!” “Don’t,” I begged when I felt him stiffen beside me. “Johnny, please don’t do anythi—” Johnny didn’t give me a chance to finish before he swung around and stormed over to where Bella was standing. “You’re one to fucking talk!” Frozen to the spot, I watched their heated interaction, knowing this was my perfect opportunity to bolt, but unable to make my legs run. I was exhausted from running away, and somewhere deep inside the back of my mind, I wondered if this boy was the one to anchor me. It certainly seemed that way when I heard him roaring profanities right back at a screeching Bella. A large crowd was gathering around to watch, and it didn’t seem to faze Johnny one bit. “Leave her the fuck alone,” he was barking. “She’s not your business.” “You’re my business,” Bella screamed back at him. Johnny threw his hands in the air. “You’re delusional.” “I take it you were lying to me when you said nothing was going on?” she snarled. “Take it whatever way you want, Bella. I couldn’t give a flying fuck what you think,” he shot back loudly. “Just leave her out of your bullshit scheming.” He was defending me. Not my brother. Not Claire. Not Lizzie. Not a teacher. No, this boy who made my heart jackknife in my chest at regular intervals and my common sense flatline, was standing in the middle of the school hall...

“Where are we going?” I whispered, hurrying to keep his pace. “Away from here,” he bit out, jaw clenching. “Why?” “Because if I stay here and she says something to you, I’ll lose my shit. If you stay here and she says something to you, I’ll lose my shit,” he explained in a tight tone. “Therefore, I need to go”—he paused to pull the glass door open and usher me outside—“and you need to come with me,” he finished, leading me into the rain. “I, uh, yeah, okay,” I whispered as I hurried along beside him.

“Fucking finally,” Johnny muttered, dragging out a rectangular box of ibuprofen from the side pocket of his bag. He popped two small tablets out from the foil encasement, then held them out to me. Clumsily, I tried and failed to take the tablets from his fingers. Flushed, I tried again and again, failing miserably until I managed to knock them out of his hands altogether. “Relax,” he encouraged me, stooping down to scoop up the pills. I watched him wipe them on the front of his hoodie and then he blew my mind with three words, “Open your mouth.” I gaped. “I can do it.” “You obviously can’t,” he shot back, smirking. “Open your mouth.” I sat there stumped for several long beats before finally opening my mouth. He dropped the two small pills on my tongue and winked.

“I promise I’ll give this one back to you.” “No problem.” Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road and not on the way her skirt was hidden beneath the hem of my hoodie and how high said hoodie rode up her bare thighs when she was sitting. “Keep it.” “Sorry?” “The hoodie.” Clearing my throat, I tightened my hand on the wheel to keep myself from doing something reckless. “Hang on to it.” “Why?” I could feel her blue eyes on me—I knew that sounded thick, but I could—and the sensation caused my arms to break out in goose bumps. I shrugged. “Because it looks good on you.”

“You like the classics?” I blurted out, feeling all panicky when she reached for the door handle. “Yes,” she replied, turning back to face me, eyes bright with excitement. “Do you?” “I like a lot of stuff,” I told her. You, most of all.

“They have this new song out called ‘Wicked Twisted Road,’” she explained. “Are you sure you haven’t heard it?” My heart stopped in my chest. That song from the pub. The one that fucked with my head. Jesus… “You should,” Shannon continued to say. “Listen to it, I mean.” Her cheeks turned pink when she said, “It reminds me of you.” Rattled. I was thoroughly fucking rattled by this girl. Partly because I had related to the words of that song, but mostly because she related the words of the song to me. Her red lips and rosy cheeks were fucking beautiful and I had to take a moment before I could form a coherent sentence and not sound like a fucking eejit. “I’ll do that,” was all I came up with.

“Well, thanks for saving me,” she whispered. Her eyes darted from my eyes to my mouth several times before she leaned over and pressed her lips to my cheek. “Again.” It was the smallest, briefest, least sexy peck, but it had come from her lips and that changed everything. Just like last night had changed everything. It deepened everything I had been desperately trying to deny. The signs I had been hiding from. They shot up like neon posters on the sides of buildings. I was so fucking thrown off-kilter by this girl. Stunned, I could do nothing but stare at her and mutter the words, “You’re welcome.” With glowing red cheeks, Shannon pushed the car door open and moved to climb out. “Wait!” I regrettably called out, snaking a hand out and catching her wrist. Shannon looked at me with wide eyes. Let her go, asshole. Let the girl go. You can’t do right by her. “Here—” Reaching into the glove compartment, I pulled out a leather case and quickly flicked through a bunch of mix CDs, stopping when I found the one I wanted, “Listen to track nine.” I practically shoved the CD into her hand and shrugged. “Reminds me of you.” “Oh, okay,” she replied, holding the CD carefully. “I will.” “Good.” “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” “Bye, Johnny,” she whispered before quickly closing the door and hurrying away. “Bye, Shannon,” I replied gruffly, watching her every move as she walked away from me. Trouble. I was in so much fucking trouble.

“You would do that for me?” she asked, voice soft. I would do pretty much anything for you.

I’d missed yesterday’s session and two more a couple of weeks back. Because of her. Because when she jumped, I flew clean off the ledge after her.

She was just so fucking beautiful.

was about the furthest a person could get from okay. But for her sake, I forced a small nod and said, “Yeah, I’m just getting a bit hungry.” What the actual fuck, Johnny? “Can I get you something?” she quickly asked. “What would you like to eat?” You. I would like to eat you, Shannon.

“I should probably go home now.” “Johnny?” she whispered. “Yeah?” “Hi,” she breathed, edging closer. “Hi,” I croaked out, fisting her duvet so tightly I was fairly sure I was going to rip the fabric. “Johnny?” Shannon whispered again. “Yeah?” “I’m going to hug you now.” She hitched her leg over mine. “Is that okay?” Don’t do it. You’ll never get over this girl. “Yeah.” I exhaled a ragged breath, feeling my heart smash against my rib cage, as she hovered above me. “That’s okay.” “Thanks for today,” she whispered in my ear as she straddled me. “You’re welcome,” I replied gruffly, clinging to my self-restraint for all I was worth. Don’t put your hands on her. Too fucking late. My hands moved of their own accord, shooting out to clamp her hips. The sensation of having her on top of me was too much. It was all too fucking much. “I should go,” I groaned as I dragged her on my lap, unable to stop myself from thrusting upward. Fuck the pain in my groin. I was on fire for this girl. Shannon wrapped her arms around my shoulders and gingerly rocked her hips on top of me in the best, most fucked-up hug I’d ever received. “I don’t want you to go,” she moaned. She actually fucking moaned in my ear. Groaning, I sat forward and pulled her roughly against me, hugging on her and rocking on her, and losing my mind in her. You’re playing with fire. This girl is going to ruin you. Fuck.

I stepped forward then, because I was a masochistic bastard with a penchant for torturing myself, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Bye, Shannon.” “Bye, Johnny,” she whispered, shivering on the doorstep. I turned around and walked straight to my car, not daring to look back at her. Masochistic or not, if I turned back and looked at those midnight blue eyes again, I was going to drown in them.

“You’re wrong. I can do the friend thing.” “You clearly can’t,” Gibsie snickered. “Lover boy.” “I helped her today,” I bit out, tensing. “That’s what friends do for friends.” “By the way, Robbie Mac asked me if I could get her number off Claire for him during lunch,” Gibsie stated in an impassive tone. Pulling himself up to rest on his elbows, he looked at me and added, “Said he’d love to take little Shannon to the cinema at the weekend.” “I hope you set that fucker straight!” I hissed. “Gibs, you better not have given that eejit her number.” He flopped back down on the bed and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Robbie’s not suicidal. All the lads heard you loud and clear that day, Cap.” I glared at him. “That’s not funny.” “It’s hilarious,” he snickered. “You’re a lost cause to that girl.”

“But just so you know?” he added. “She’s always been your Shannon.”

“Thank god. And for what it’s worth, I would have lost my shit, too,” he told me. “If some bitch talked about Claire like that, I would have blown ten head gaskets.”

“Binding thirteen,” Gibsie snickered as he tore off way too fucking fast for comfort. “Little Shannon blew that shit clean out of the water.”

“You really think that bitch is better than me?” she demanded. “Seriously, Johnny? Talk about downgrading. Does she even possess a pair of tits?” “Don’t talk shit about her,” I warned. “Say whatever the fuck you want about me but keep her name off your tongue.” “It’s the truth,” she spat out. “She’s a glorified needle.” Shrugging, she added, “She looks anorexic.” “And you look and sound like a coldhearted bitch.” Repressing the urge to lose my shit right here outside the hall, I mustered every ounce of calm I could and hissed, “If you fuck with her one more time, I will ruin you.” She glared at me. “I’d like to see you try.” “I will ruin you,” I repeated, voice deathly cold. “Your reputation. Your status. Your friends. Your future relationships. Everything. If you fuck with Shannon Lynch again, I will take everything from you.”

Shaking his head, Johnny expelled a heavy breath, released my ankle, and then stood to his feet. It was a terrible move that resulted in our bodies being crushed together without an inch of space to spare. “I would have moved, you know,” Johnny explained, eyes locked on me. We were in such close quarters that I could smell his cologne. “If you’d given me a half a chance.” I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a puff of air. It was impossible to form words when I was completely wedged between his chest and the seat in front, my stupid schoolbag making it impossible for me to escape. “Are they going to ride or what?” someone called out. “Sure fucking looks like it,” another snickered. “What the hell is going on back there?” Mr. Mulcahy roared at the top of his lungs. “Kavanagh! Lynch! Pack the canoodling in and take your seats!” Everyone on the bus erupted in whistles and laughter. Meanwhile, I died inside.

“Track nine on the CD?” I shrugged. “It was ‘Fuck Her Gently’ by Tenacious D.” “Dammit.” “No, that’s Blink 182 and that was track four,” I replied. “Fuck it.” “No,” I corrected, “‘Fuck It’ by Eamon was track ten.” “What—no!” Johnny shook his head and groaned. “Jesus, what else was on it?” I thought about it for a moment before saying, “‘Pretty Fly for a White Guy,’ ‘The Ballad of Chasey Lain,’ um, ‘Stacy’s Mom,’ ‘The Bad Touch,’ ‘Pony,’ and a few others that I can’t remember.” Johnny groaned again. “I gave you the wrong CD.” “You did?” He nodded slowly. “That was Gibsie’s.” “What one did you mean to give me?” Johnny had a pinched expression when he said, “A Maroon 5 song.” “Oh?” I looked up at him. “Which one?” He shifted in discomfort. “‘She Will Be Loved.’” Oh.

I’d spent my entire life on display, like a bleeding show pony, and nothing ever fazed me. But she did. This girl right here did.

No self-respecting lad of my age, with my kind of life experience, trembled over a girl. Fucking trembled. And yet, here I was, trying to get my body to calm the hell down so I could at least pretend that I was half-normal and not scare her back into the shell she liked to hide inside.

Tommen’s guidance counselor was batshit crazy, but she had a whole host of games and team-bonding exercises planned for the three-and-a-half-hour bus ride. She even had a bag of fucking Easter eggs and little laminated award charts as prizes. She did this every damn time she joined us on an away game, and usually I just ignored the woman until she gave up and left me alone. I always sat alone so she couldn’t pair me up with the person beside me and make me do those bleeding feelings exercises—and, god forbid, reflection time—she loved so much. But today? Today I found myself participating in the boring-as-fuck quizzes and charades games, not to mention, I bleeding Spy. I knew Gibsie, Hughie, and Feely were laughing their asses off at me from the back of the bus—they knew I never joined in on these games—but I didn’t give a shite because playing these games meant Shannon had to talk to me. Every time I won, the girl next to me smiled. Every time I handed her another Easter egg or stupid little award, she crept further out of that shell she was hiding in. That was worth the slagging I was going to reap from my team. She was worth it all.

“Do you want to go sit with them for lunch?” I pointed out the window to where a bunch of Johnny’s teammates were sitting around a picnic table outside the shop, munching and chatting. “I don’t mind,” I added, not wanting him to feel like he had to stay here with me when his friends were all together over there. “I’m happy here,” he quickly dismissed.

“But all the other lads on your team are eating chicken fillet rolls and deli food. And you’re eating a prepacked meal.” “Yeah, well, all the other lads on the team don’t have a bitchy nutritionist to contend with,” he explained between bites. “Or a truckload of coaches and scouts breathing down their necks.” Huh. I thought about that for a moment. “Do you mind?” I asked then. He smirked. “No, baby, I don’t mind.” My heart stopped in my chest.

“I am what I am and I make no apologies for it.” He lightly tapped the pen against my nose. “Now, concentrate.”

“Why do you do it?” “What do you mean?” “Rugby,” I explained. “Why do you do it?” “I love it,” he replied simply. “Everything about it. The shape of the ball. The physicality of the game. The adrenaline rush. The pressure. The rewards. Pushing myself. I fucking love the game.” I love you, I almost blurted out, holding the three terrifying words back just in time. Oh my god! Where did that come from? I didn’t love Johnny. I didn’t even know him. Not well, at least. And sure, the parts I knew about him were good parts, decent parts, beautiful parts, but that in no way meant I felt anything deeper for Johnny than obvious physical attraction and a teenage crush. It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. Stop lying to yourself, my brain hissed. You love him with every piece of your fractured heart…

I didn’t quite catch what was said next, but Johnny leaped out of his seat and stalked to the back of the bus, so I presumed it was of the explicit variety. I didn’t dare look. Instead, I kept my head down and my gaze trained on my trembling hands. “The fuck you say about her?” “I was messing… Ah, fuck, stop! Jesus, relax! It was a joke.” “Am I laughing, Robbie?” “Relax, Cap.” “Am I fucking laughing, asshole?” “No. Christ—ouch! Stop.” “Do you think she’s laughing?” “No.” “No,” Johnny sneered. “Don’t push me again, ya little culchie bollox.” “Sorry.” “Say it again.” “I’m sorry, Johnny—” “To her!” Johnny roared, loud enough that it drew the attention of the entire bus. “Apologize to her. Now.” “Sorry, Shannon,” a chorus of male voices called out. “Um, that’s okay?” I offered back, because what the hell else could I do?

“I can keep a secret, Johnny Kavanagh,” I whispered, stroking his cheek with my fingers. “And I promise I’ll keep yours.”

“It’s not bullshit,” I countered. “I am unlikable.” “I like you,” Johnny shot back without an ounce of hesitation. Well, I love you, Johnny Kavanagh! Even though you’re leaving. Even though you don’t feel the same. Even though loving you is going to break my heart. I love you with everything I have. And I probably always will.

“She’s threatened by you,” he said gruffly. “Her reaction to you is based on jealousy.” “Threatened by me?” I shook my head. “Why?” “Because you’re beautiful,” he stated, causing my cheeks to flush a deep shade of pink. A boy had never called me beautiful before. Not like this. Not with such forwardness. Not with such sincerity. Johnny said it, though, and my heart was flapping around in my chest like a demented, caged bird fighting to escape. He cleared his throat then, looking slightly uncomfortable, and for a moment I thought he was about to take the compliment back, but then he steeled his features, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and whispered, “Inside and out.” Those extra words did the trick. Those extra words ruined me. I could feel my body tremble as I turned my gaze to his, locking eyes. “I am?” He nodded slowly. “Everywhere.” Oh god. My heart. I couldn’t handle this. I couldn’t cope with him…

“I told you that day outside Twomey’s office that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you,” he finally admitted. Yeah, he did. He promised. And he kept it… “Well, thanks for caring,” I breathed. “Thanks for being worth it,” Johnny replied, hand still on my cheek.

Shaking my head, I gave up on trying to crack the code of their unspoken conversation and turned my attention to Johnny’s iPod—something he had given me to listen to during one of our reflection breaks earlier. Slipping the headphones on my ears, I carefully scrolled through his playlists and almost had a heart attack when my eyes landed on the one named Songs for Shannon. With my heart racing, I cast a quick peek up at Johnny, but he was still fully immersed in vulgar sign language with Gibsie. Exhaling a small puff of air from my lungs, I pressed into the playlist and quickly scrolled through the list of songs. Coldplay—“Yellow” Guns N’ Roses—“Sweet Child O’ Mine” Goo Goo Dolls—“Iris” The Fureys—“When You Were Sweet Sixteen” Howie Day—“Collide” The Offspring—“Want You Bad” Busted—“Fall at Your Feet” Aerosmith—“Crazy” Counting Crows—“Colorblind” David Gray—“This Year’s Love” Bon Jovi—“In These Arms” Westlife—“World of Our Own” Eagle-Eye Cherry—“Save Tonight” Metallica—“Tuesday’s Gone” Snow Patrol—“Run” The Verve—“Lucky Man” HIM—“Wicked Game” The La’s—“There She Goes” These were love songs. These were all love songs. Saved to a playlist with my name on it. Why? Why would he do this? Did he…? No. No, he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. Then why…?

“I hope you win.” I gave him a small wave before hurrying down the aisle toward the exit, desperate to put some much-needed space between Johnny Kavanagh and my heart. “Shannon?” Johnny called after me. Pausing at the door, I swung back to look at him. “Yeah?” His blue eyes burned holes inside of me when he said, “Thanks.” “For what?” I whispered. Johnny smiled. “For being nothing like the rest of them.” “Uh, okay?” “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” I nodded. “Bye, Johnny.”

“Johnny?” I called after him, unable to stop myself. When he stopped running and turned back to face me, I hurried to close the space between us, not stopping until I was right in front of him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning down at me in confusion. “Nothing, I just—” Shaking my head, I reached up and cupped his neck, pulling his face down to mine. Pressing up on my tiptoes, I whispered in his ear, “I need you to stay safe out there, okay?” Resisting the urge to fold myself into him, I released his neck and stepped back. “Be careful.” I took another step back, eyes locked on his. “Okay?” Johnny nodded slowly, blue eyes heated. “Okay.” “Bye, Johnny,” I whispered and then turned around. Johnny caught my hand and pulled me back to face him. “You’ll come home with me tonight?” he asked gruffly, eyes burning with heat, as he fiddled with that rogue strand of hair of mine. “You still want to do that?” “Yeah,” I whispered, stepping closer, unable to resist the urge to knot my fingers in his shirt. “I do.” “Shannon, I’m so…” He exhaled a sharp breath and shook his head. “Tonight.” His hand moved from my hair to cup my cheek. “We’ll talk tonight.” “Okay, Johnny,” I breathed, leaning my cheek into his large palm. Without another word, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead. And then he turned around and walked away.

The sheer depth of my feelings for him was unhealthy. The adoration, the lust, the downright infatuation I had for him…it was insanity. I had never felt this much. I had never felt so consumed.

If feelings were objects, then I was teetering on the edge of a great precipice, and if girls were weapons, then Shannon Lynch was the greatest weapon of mass destruction my heart had ever been exposed to. Because I was fucked.

I was starving for her and everything she was. Every part of her. Inside and out. I wanted to fight all her battles. I wanted to give her all her smiles and make her laugh and snatch her away from the rest of the world and keep her all to myself. I just wanted her. For keeps. I knew that was incredibly selfish of me, and I knew that I was probably going to end up fucking up everything and breaking her heart, but the problem was, my heart was involved, too.

I had caught feelings for Shannon. Huge fucking feelings. Permanent ones. I knew I was too old for her. I knew she was too sweet and pure to be dragged into the limelight that came with my life. And I knew that she was too fucking broken for a guy like me to get tangled up with. But I already felt like I was drowning with her. That’s how consumed I was in this girl. That’s how much I loved her. Fuck.

The sheer volume of pride that roared to life inside of me watching him take on his old friends and kick their asses was scary. I was ridiculously wrapped up in this boy and found myself screaming and cheering for him on the sidelines, ignoring the death glares I received from Bella and her friends. I didn’t care. I was so proud of him.

For a moment, I just knelt there, on my hands and knees in the muddy grass and breathed, allowing the tsunami of relief to wash over me as I watched him go. I didn’t understand my reaction and I didn’t care. He was okay. He was alright. And I could finally breathe again.

“He’s in a bad way,” he admitted quietly. “Depending on what the doctors say when he gets to the hospital, he’s looking at some serious time out of the game.” Exhaling heavily, he ran a hand through his hair. “He’s out for the final, for sure.” “I don’t want to know if he can play rugby or not,” I squeezed out as a wave of guilt swallowed me up. “I want to know if he is okay! Him. Johnny! The person. Not the fucking rugby player!” Gibsie tilted his head to one side, studying me with a curious look. “Well, aren’t you a keeper?” he finally mused, tone low. “What?” “Never mind.” Gibsie shook his head and exhaled heavily.

“I’ll, uh, go wait on the bus.” I turned around and hurried for the door. “Can you stay with me?” My feet stopped and my heart sped up. I turned back to look at him. “Huh?” “Please,” Johnny croaked out. “I don’t want to be on my own.” My heart constricted tightly in my chest, making it hard to breathe. “I can go and get Gibsie?” I offered weakly. Johnny shook his head. “I only want you.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes off his. “I just…I…” Shaking my head, I exhaled a ragged breath and whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head and used his crutch to step closer, pressing his body flush against mine. “Me, too,” he replied gruffly, gaze flickering from my eyes to my mouth. “Why are you sorry?” I breathed, trembling from head to toe. He cupped my cheek with his free hand and tilted my chin up. “Because I shouldn’t do this,” he whispered. And then he kissed me.

Oh God. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I was kissing Johnny Kavanagh. Johnny Kavanagh was kissing me back. He had his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair, and my heart in his pocket. This was… This was… Everything I had never expected and more.

“Am I doing it right?” I breathed against his lips, feeling achingly aware of my inexperience. “More than right,” he assured me, claiming my mouth once again. “This is my first kiss,” I moaned against his lips. “You’re fucking perfect,” he assured me, filling my mouth with his hot tongue.