One Week Girlfriend part 1

realized it sooner.
     
    Fable
     
    Something has changed within Drew since last night. Where before he was tense and secretive, today he seems more open and happier than I’ve ever seen him. Since we’ve come here, we’ve talked, we fought, we talked some more and somehow that’s brought us closer together.
    But I’m also afraid. He goes back and forth. One minute open and charming and so irresistible he steals my breath. Then the next he’s dark and withdrawn, quiet. It takes a lot of energy to spend time with Drew but when he’s acting like this, I forget all the drama and revel in just being with him.
    The unexpected rainstorm has made me wet and miserable but I don’t care. Not when I have Drew staring up at me, his blue eyes locked with mine. His face is damp with raindrops and his hair is soaked, as are his clothes, like mine. But we’re in this little tunnel of an alley, covered by a wooden trellis overgrown with ivy and it’s kind of cozy. Tiny white Christmas lights cast a faint glow upon us and it’s dark, the only sound our accelerated breathing and the rain falling on the sidewalk and street only a few feet away.
    I feel alone with him. Completely and totally isolated, not worried who might see us or what they might say. We can do whatever we want without fear of judgment or snide remarks. The jealous girls and the jealous stepmoms fade away until it’s just me and him and the rain.
    Studying his face, I smooth my index finger along one cheekbone, then the other. He didn’t shave this morning and the stubble on his face is scratchy. Makes me wonder what it would feel like, to have him rub against my sensitive body parts with those roughened cheeks.
    A shiver moves through me at the thought.
    He’s completely still, only the faint flicker of his eyelids give away that he’s affected by my touch and becoming bolder, I trace his mouth. Slowly, along the curve of his upper lip, then the full lower lip, my finger lingering in the corners, absorbing the tiny droplets of water that dot his skin. He parts his lips, capturing the tip of my finger between them and a gasp escapes me when he gently bites my finger, then licks it.
    God. He’s killing me. I don’t know why he’s bolder today, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making moves on me but I’m not questioning it. I want this. I want him.
    “You going to kiss me or what?” he asks after I remove my finger from between his lips. “You’re torturing me, you know.”
    “Maybe I want to.” I feel flirty, mischievous and the slow grin that spreads across his face at my remark was worth it.
    Drew slides his hand up my back until he’s cupping my nape, his fingers gripping my damp hair. I dip my head, our mouths brushing faintly and it’s as if a spark of electricity lights between us.
    I’m instantly hungry for him, but I force myself to use restraint. I don’t want to rush this moment. There’s a sort of magic in this space that’s woven its spell around us and I’m not ready to break it yet.
    I want to make this moment with him last.
    Our lips meet again and again in the most chaste of kisses, every time his mouth connects with mine tingles dance in my stomach. My skin is covered in gooseflesh and I wind my arms around his neck, slide my fingers into his wet hair and clutch him close. His other arm is wrapped around my waist and he pulls me in closer until our wet bodies are plastered together.
    “Fable.” He whispers my name, his voice deep and sexy and I part my lips, breathing into him. His mouth is soft and sweet, his tongue warm and damp as it tangles with mine. The slow burn deep in my belly is flaming higher. Higher still, until I’m ravenous, so hot I wish I could claw my clothes off and rub my naked body against his.
    The slow kisses give way to hot, frantic ones. His fingers are so tight in my hair it hurts, but I don’t care. I’m starving for him and I want more. I want everything he can give me.
    He breaks the kiss first and I lean my forehead against his, our breathing out of control and loud in the otherwise hushed quiet of the tunnel. The rain seems to have lessened, it’s not as loud and open my eyes to find him watching me carefully.
    “Should we make a run for it?” he asks.
    I don’t know how to answer. I don’t want him to let go of me. He has such a tight hold, I feel safe. Protected. “It’s still raining.”
    “Not as hard, though.”
    “We’ll get soaked,” I point out lamely.
    “We’re