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of Adrian being afraid of anything startles a laugh from my lips. “You?
    Never.”
    He reaches up, captures my face in his hands. Far from feeling trapped, the way his palms linger over my cheeks makes me feel cherished, wanted. It’s a foreign feeling, one I’m not sure what to do with.
    Before I can give too much thought to the uncomfortable sensations streaming through me, I dart in for a kiss. I think I just want to shut him up, but the moment my lips slant across his, I know I can’t make do with a quick peck.
    His tongue darts over my lower lip, and I’m lost. I wrap my arms around his waist, pull him toward me. He slides his fingers along the back of my head, tugs at the elastic that always holds my ponytail in place.
    My hair cascades over my shoulders, and he tangles his hands in it, sighing against my mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, then parts his lips again and draws me in.
    The sweet caress of his tongue against mine sends a shiver through me. I moan, press myself closer to him—close enough to feel the solid line of his cock nudge my stomach.
    34

    Voices in the Dark
    I need to feel him, to have my hands all over him. He’s still wearing his jacket, so I unzip it quickly and nudge it off his shoulders. It falls to the tiled floor with a heavy thud, but that’s the least of my concerns. I’ve already moved on to his shirt, which I’m tugging from his pants with quick, desperate yanks. When it finally comes free, I slip my hands beneath it, letting my fingers glide over his heated skin.
    His muscles tense beneath my touch, and I want to commit to memory every dip, every plane and valley on his body, just as I memorized the uniqueness of his handwriting. I run my palms around the front of him, reveling in the rippled feel of his abdomen, in the light sprinkling of coarse hair over his chest and the flat nubs of his nipples.
    I barely notice when he slides my shorts off my hips. I’m not wearing panties, and his sharp inhale of breath as he discovers this tells me it wasn’t what he expected.
    We’re still kissing when his hand finds my slick folds. I keep myself neatly trimmed, even though no one’s seen my pussy in nearly a year. I do it for me.
    Now I’m absurdly grateful I’ve taken the time to groom myself. He slips two fingers along my slit, and his chest heaves, breath catching as I grind down against the pressure he’s applying to my cunt.
    If I was normal, this would be enough. I’d cling to him, let him take me soaring and lose myself in the intimacy he offers. But although his hand on my sex feels divine, I need more. The absence of voices in the dark stirs my soul, tugs at the emptiness inside me.
    The knowledge that I’ll have to tell him leaves a bitter aftertaste in its wake.
    I’m struggling to figure out how to broach the subject when he breaks the kiss with a groan that seems torn from the depths of his chest. His palm remains where it is, cupping my pussy for a second longer, before it, too, slips away.
    A whimper slides from my throat. Panic grips me like a band tightening around my chest. “Don’t go.”
    35

    Lacey Savage
    In that moment, I’m willing to do anything, try anything, if he’ll stay. I don’t have to tell him. I can pretend to be anyone he wants me to be. I’m so damn good at pretending.
    He sinks down to the floor, looks up at me with an amused grin that highlights the twin dimples in his cheeks and makes my stomach flip-flop. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
    “Then…”
    “I have something for you.”
    I can see now that he’s rummaging around in his jacket pocket. When he lifts his hand, it’s to show me the sleek, flat edge of a cell phone. It’s one of the new models, the kind that are all screen and no buttons.
    My mouth hangs open, but I’m having trouble getting words out. Is he really telling me I can call someone right now? Is it possible he can understand me so well? And more importantly, that he doesn’t mind?
    The