As soon as the Christmas festivities were over, I went back to New Haven. Being in Stamford without you was too hard, and I kept feeling my father's eyes on me, like he knew I was hiding something. I'd gotten used to hiding something, my feeling for you, but this was different. Now I was hiding both our secrets.

And hiding something like the fact that we were doing whatever it was we were doing was one of the hardest things I'd ever done. I felt like there was sunlight shooting out of my fingertips at all times.

So the day after Christmas, I put all of my focus on moving into the apartment I would be living in until I graduated from Yale. I was moving into an apartment with one of my suitemates from Yale, and I was excited for the quiet, the privacy, the home away from home, a place where they couldn't kick me out when the semester was over.

But on New Year's Eve, I was starving. Starving for your attention, for your affection, for you. I kept checking my phone over and over, hoping you would call. I knew that you were five hours ahead, that your new year had already begun long ago. You'd asked me not to call because you wanted to be with your mother, ringing in the new year.

You never said anything about whether or not you would call me.

But the real problem wasn't new year's. It was us.

We hadn't talked about what we were. Sure, we'd kissed and we'd had phone sex, but that was it. We talked on the phone as often as we could and texted each other even more, but everything was casual. There was no mention of love, no mention of being in a relationship, no mention of whether or not this was serious to you. It was killing me.

I wanted you to be mine and only mine. I didn't want to think about the possibility of you sleeping with someone in London. I didn't want to think about you coming home with someone like you had before. You were mine. Did you know it?

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The guy that leaned against the wall beside me was painfully handsome. He had a mug of beer in his hand and a kind smile on his face, but Lord help me, he wasn't you. So I shook my head. "No, thanks."

He scowled in a confused way. "You don't seem like you're having a very good time. It's New Year's, didn't you hear?"

I sent him a fake surprised look. "Oh my God, is that what this whole thing is about?"

He laughed and sipped his beer. "Afraid so. You here with someone?"

"Just my friend, Amber." I motioned to where Amber was on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. She was probably, definitely going to get lucky tonight, and I was going to cry myself to sleep because my gorgeous Englishman didn't care that I was alone on New Year's. It had been Amber's idea to come to the party, after all. A friend of hers had told her about it, and Amber had insisted I come, but it wasn't even eleven yet, and I was ready to go home.

"Well, Amber seems to be having a good time."

I just nodded. He was right on that point. I checked my phone again.

"Oh, now I see how it is."

I glanced up at the boy, and his eyes were on my phone. "What?"

He grinned. "Only people who are waiting for someone to call check their phone like that."

I pressed my shoulders to the wall and wished I could slide right through it and into oblivion. I was never this girl, waiting for a guy to call. Not even you. I'd always wanted you, but it was always impossible, so I'd moved on. And yet, here I was.

"He must be a real idiot to leave someone as beautiful as you hanging around on your own on New Year's. I mean, who's going to kiss those red lips at midnight?"

I looked up at him, and I saw possibility.

I knew exactly what kind of life I would have with you. We would hide from my parents, from everybody. You'd always be calling from London, or I would be calling from New Haven, and we would have so little time together. Maybe, eventually, you'd even move back there, to take care of your parents. And what happened then? What happened when I went off to graduate school? What happened when I wanted to get married? Have kids? How could we even begin to make this work?

I looked up at the guy next to me, with his dark, long lashes, leaning into me, and I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to tell him he was right, that you didn't deserve me, that I should just kiss someone else at midnight. What was one kiss right? Except it was never one kiss, was it? Kisses turned into touching and that turned into grinding, and before I knew it, I'd given myself to some cute guy in a bar because you weren't here to give me what I'd wanted since I was sixteen.

"Guess I'll just have to make sure I'm asleep before midnight," I said, pushing off the wall and leaving the guy behind. I found Amber on the dance floor and told her I was leaving.

"What?" she said. "You can't go yet. It's not even midnight."

"Exactly," I said in her ear. "Look, have fun, okay? Just maybe don't be too loud when you get home?" I raised my eyebrows in the direction of her date, but she shook her head.

"Don't worry. We're going to his place after."

I sent her a smile, and then I walked home alone. The bar where the party was happening was only two blocks from the complex we'd chosen, and I went up to the apartment and immediately stripped down and put on my pajamas. I checked my phone again, just to be sure, and then I climbed into bed.

When my phone finally rang, I shot up in bed. I couldn't have been asleep more than a few minutes, but I was in deep enough that the sound of the phone ringing sent my heart racing. And when I looked at the screen and saw your face, it raced harder.

"Hi," I said, burrowing down into my covers and smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. "I was scared you weren't going to call."

You laughed. "And miss New Year's? No way. Come let me in."

I shot up in my bed again. "What do you mean?"

You laughed again. "I'm downstairs. Come let me in or I'm climbing up your fire escape."

I was out of bed before you'd even finished talking. I threw open the door and rushed down the stairs, and there you were, standing on the sidewalk, looking like the most beautiful man in America and England put together.

I didn't even have a chance to say anything. You lunged at me, pushing me back into the apartment's vestibule, and slamming your mouth down on mine. I heard the door crash shut behind us, and next thing I knew, I was being pressed down into the stairs and you were on top of me, sucking on my bottom lip, pushing your hips into mine.

"It's not even midnight yet," I gasped when you moved down to my throat.

"Like I bloody care," you murmured. You took my hand and helped me to my feet, and I grinned hard as I led you up to the apartment. Inside, I shut the door, and you pressed me against it.

"Make love to me," I whispered into the empty darkness, and you shook your head.

"Not tonight," you said, and I whimpered because the press of your cock against my stomach said yes tonight.

"Why not?"

You didn't answer, just pulled me into the bedroom. You took off your jacket and your shoes and then we crawled under my covers. It was almost comical, trying to fit both of us on my tiny bed, but I didn't mind. It gave me an excuse to climb on top of you.

You grunted when I pressed myself against the ridge beneath your jeans while I touched your tongue with mine. You held me tight, your fingers in my hair, and I rocked against you.

"I missed you," you said with your lips against my ear, and I moaned.

"Why not tonight?" I asked, pushing harder and faster. I was going to come. With my pajamas and your jeans between us, I was going to come.

"Take what you need," you said by way of answer, and then you pulled the top of my lacy tank top down below my breasts and sucked one of my nipples into your mouth. I cried out and rode you harder.

"Yes," you said, and I saw stars. I wanted to unbutton your jeans, shove away my underwear, slam down on your cock and let you take me. But whatever reason you had not to say yes, I would respect it. So when your hands found my hips and pushed my pelvis down even harder onto you, I rocked harder and harder against your cock, getting off to the way your wet mouth surrounded my nipple while my tits bounced.

I screamed when I came, holding your head to me even as your hands held onto my ass. When I was done, your mouth came off my with a pop, and I reached down and took my top off, tossing it onto the floor. You were still hard beneath me, and I knew you hadn't come.

Unacceptable.

I'd been waiting years to see your face when you came, and I wasn't going to miss my chance tonight.

You let me undo your jeans and slide my hand inside. You clamped your eyes shut when I wrapped my hand around your dick, and I wanted to weep with how hot your skin was, how unbelievably hard you were, at the sounds you made when I stroked you.

"Oh, fuck, Lena. Oh, fuck," you whispered gently, almost like you were ashamed to be saying it. I didn't want you to be ashamed. I gripped you harder, and you reached out and, with wide eyes, you pinched my nipple, tugging on the tip, and we gasped together as you came in my hand.

I couldn't decide what to watch-- your face, with your mouth open and your eyes shut and your head thrown back, or the come that was cascading from the tip of your penis, flowing over my hand and onto your skin.

Without a word, you slipped your hand into my underwear, and I was ready again. I still felt languid from the first orgasm, but seeing you come had my pussy aching again, and you slid two fingers over my clit before plunging them inside me.

I screamed again, and you flipped me onto my back, watching me with concentrated eyes as you fucked me with your fingers. The heel of your hand pushed against my clit with every thrust, and my eyes rolled back into my head. I'd never felt anything so good, and I could only imagine what the real thing would be like, when you finally spread my legs, settled between them, and fucked me with that hard dick I'd just watched come.

"Fuck me harder," I said without even realizing it, and another finger joined the first two. When I opened my eyes, a bead of sweat rolled down your temple. I pushed up on my elbow, wrapping a hand around the wrist between my legs. It made me hot to feel your muscles straining as you fucked me. I slid my fingers down to my clit and pressed as I leaned forward and licked that little bead of sweat from your temple.

And then I came harder than I'd ever come before. I screamed so loud my throat hurt, and you bit my chest, the kindest, sweetest pain I'd ever felt, and I was certain, certain, certain, that I belonged to you. Forever.