Lost Boy

By Evelyn Montgomery

When Peter Pan discovers his forbidden magic, he's faced with an ultimatum.

Stay in London, or escape to a whole new world. A place where a fairy named Tinker Bell is his most loyal companion, pirates rule the seas, mermaids are friends with the fae, and lost boys live out their childish dreams.

But leaving London comes with a price.

Wendy Moira Angela Darling.

When Peter decides to steal Wendy away one night, headed for the second star to the right, Tinker Bell's jealousy grows. The lost boys turn on him. The mermaids and fae work against him. And an evil, dangerous shadow falls on Neverland.

Jas Hook.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Montgomery
• Release date: May 10, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224204243

Evelyn Montgomery

Born & raised in California, Evelyn Montgomery now resides in Central Kentucky with her husband and three children.Her love stories include contemporary chick lit, romantic suspense, phycological thrillers, mysteries, RomCom & much more.One thing to always expect when reading an Evelyn Montgomery book is a plot twist somewhere between the pages you’d never see coming.With no plans to stop writing any time soon, her goal is to keep producing a fictional world that isn’t forced, but genuine, heartfelt, and desirable.

Book preview

Part I

All children except one grow up.

- Peter & Wendy

J.M. Barrie

Chapter 1

Wendy

SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD

Asoothing, rhythmic, humming noise nudges me from my dreams. I smile knowingly, feeling and understanding the shift in the room before I even open my eyes. The music is gentle, low enough only for me to hear in order to not wake anyone else up in the house. I sit for a moment, and a blush creeps across my cheeks as I let it lull me awake. As it does, my body rouses in a different way than it ever has before for the boy I sense sitting on the edge of my bed. 

When I still don't move after several moments, his foot gently rubs against mine, and my smile grows. The bed shifts with his weight as he sits on the comforter at my feet, and I grin wider. My head drifts from side to side with the rhythm of the music he plays, but it only lasts a few more moments before he stops. 

Keep playing, Peter, I whisper, my eyes still closed. You're almost at my favorite part.

What part is that, Wendy? he breathes softly

His body shifts again, his fingertips brush across the back of my hand before he picks it up gently and holds it in his palm. My breath catches in my throat. Feelings, emotions I'm unsure how to put into words, simmer in my lower belly, but I don't move away. His palm gently raises mine to his lips, and he brushes the back of my hand with a tender kiss. Shocked, my eyes open to meet his as he scoots dangerously closer on the bed. 

Swallowing over a lump in my throat, I search his eyes and wonder if he understands how he's making me feel. Something I don't even fully understand yet myself. After all, Peter is only a boy. A boy that ran away from home when he was born. Or so he says. These feelings are all new to me, new to him, I'd imagine. Because I can tell by the look in his eyes that whatever I'm feeling, he must be feeling, too.

He studies me in the moonlight, and my mind wanders, trying to make sense of the shift between us since the last time he was here. If it were true that Peter ran away from home the day he was born, the person staring back at me and looking to be the same age I am would resemble a child instead. Not the boy, almost man, sitting across from me now. A boy who's currently staring back at me with so much heat in his eyes, I feel slightly embarrassed for the both of us. 

This is new. This isn't the way our meetings normally go. 

For as long as he's been coming to sit with me, what must be several years now, and playing his pipes at the foot of my bed, I never once thought he'd be staring back at me the way he is. 

Recently, I had wished for it, even dreamed about it. However, every dream I've ever had pales compared to the look he gives me now. 

Peter leans in closer and sets his musical pipes aside. He braces his hands on either side of my body and brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. I tremble. He smiles. Then, he takes my breath away when he leans in closer and whispers against my lips, Want to know my favorite part, Wendy Moira Angela Darling?

I asked him this before, the last time I saw him. But suddenly, I get the dizzying feeling we’re not talking about Neverland.

With a nervous gasp, I suck in a sharp breath and stare at his mouth. Breathless, I whisper, Part of what, Peter?

He grins, knowing and loving the effect he has on me. One I am not used to feeling. Glancing back up, I watch his eyes roam and slowly memorize the curves of my face. Of you, Wendy, he teases with mischief in his eyes. 

My laugh comes out shaky, and I glance away nervously, but he cups my chin gently in his palm and slowly forces my stare back his way. Time stands still as he leans closer and breathes against my lips, Everything.

He brushes his thumb across my mouth, and I swear I feel like I'm dying. My heart beats out of control, and I have to remind myself that Peter always says whatever comes into his head. So how can I know that what he's saying right now is one hundred percent genuine? 

That it's true. 

Everything about you is my favorite part, he smirks. His thumb caresses the right side of my cheek, and I flush.

Part of what? I ask, then shut my eyes quickly out of embarrassment. The bed shifts, and his weight comes closer. His lips brush tenderly against my eyelids, and I let out a startled gasp. First the right, then the left, before my eyes flutter open. 

Part of living for, he says without pause. Breathing for. Dying for. 

I tell myself to breathe as he backs away, picks up his pipe, oblivious as to the way I’m feeling, and then brings it back to his mouth. Before he starts to play again, he shrugs. As if it should be as evident to me as it is to him, and says, Everything about you is my favorite part, Wendy.

He looks at me over the top of his instrument and starts to play. My heart soars, my body feels numb. It's as if I'm here, and yet by some magic unbeknown to me, I'm not. When he gets to my favorite part of the song, he gives me a wink that almost makes me do something crazy, almost makes me shoot out of bed, grab the pipe from his hands, and cover his lips with mine. Sucking in a shaky breath as he plays, I watch slightly dazed as he slowly rises from the bed and walks over to the window. He leans against it, and his hair falls haphazardly into his eyes, the eyes still holding mine, and I watch him with anticipation, curious as to what's to come tonight. 

I won’t deny something about tonight feels magical. It's a night that gives the illusion that there is more between Peter and me than just these midnight meetings. Even if it all turns out to be make-believe, pretend, some sort of game or joke, I’ll take it, and him, anyway I can have him.

I watch, studying Peter for a moment as I lay in bed. I become so mesmerized, entranced, sucked in by this different, growing feeling that's settled between us since the last time he was here. He's always been older than me all the years he's come to visit. He's always seemed somehow out of reach, part of a different world. 

Until now. 

Something has definitely changed.

As he looks back my way, I sit up in bed and my comforter falls to my lap. I don't miss the way his eyes drop and take me in. I've matured since the last time he was here. Blossomed almost overnight, or so my mother says. I had never resembled a little girl before but was far from grown. Now, the changes in my appearance show that I'm on the cusp of womanhood. He realizes, and my heart beats faster than it ever has before. Thoughts I swear I shouldn't be thinking come to the forefront of my mind. They're a ruthless impulse I know one day will get the better of me, no matter how hard I try and fight them.

As Peter finishes playing his song, I rise from the bed, and he takes a bow. A giggle escapes my lips as he stands to his full height and walks toward me. You've changed, he smirks, coming a few steps closer. When I don't respond, he whispers, What about me, Wendy? Have I changed?

I want to tell him yes, everything about him has. All because of the way he’s making me feel. The look in his eyes, and the feeling I get when he comes closer, they've changed, too. I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as fear for what it all means gets the better of me.

Peter reaches out and takes my hand. It's such a small gesture, but it calms me. Makes me stop thinking. He stares into my eyes as if he can read my mind. With a slight shake of his head, telling me no, all thoughts fade except one. 

Can he tell what I'm thinking?

A flash of a secret, a memory perhaps, comes back to haunt me. Of a time not so long ago I believe I felt the same way. But just as soon as it comes, it flies away and is gone.

I can't make sense of it. Instead, I decide to focus on the new sensations growing between us. I focus on the look he’s giving me that makes me want to beg him to stay, even though I know he'll soon have to fly away, just so I can continue to feel this strange, euphoric, magical feeling growing between us a little stronger.  

Flustered, I look to the floor after a moment and say, No, Peter. The new emotions coursing through my veins get the better of me, and I end up blurting out in a whisper, You're just as perfect as always.

That's right, he boasts. Dropping my hand, I look up just as he holds his fists at his side and takes his signature stance. I'm flawless, Wendy. 

I raise my brow in challenge. He's always been conceited. Truth be told, that's one of his most fascinating qualities. When I don’t say anything after a moment, a look of amusement spreads across his face as he pulls me a small step closer into his chest. 

Everyone has flaws, Peter, I whisper.

Not you, Wendy, he smiles, confident in himself, and then adds, And not I.

How can you be so sure? I tease.

I just know, he winks as his hand guides me, spins me around, and slowly twirls me to the beat of our own special tune in the middle of my room.

Do you? I laugh, dancing in his arms, I bet you know everything.

His eyes catch mine as I turn past him in a twirl. On the next turn, I notice his gaze traveling down my body. Desperate. Unabashed. My hand begins to shake and slips slightly out of his grasp. I trip slightly, but his steady grip rights me. 

My voice trembles, as I force myself to say, Am I right, Peter?

He smiles as his eyes continue their appraisal. Then, almost as quickly as he started ogling me, he stops. Something in his stare changes. A darkness grows. He backs away abruptly, drops my hand, and I fall backward on my feet with a slight stumble. This time he doesn’t catch me. Bringing his pipes back to his lips, he dances around, playing a short tune, acting as if every feeling that was just consuming us was merely a dream, not reality. Shaking my head, I force my thoughts away from mature things that have no business coming between us and focus instead on how things have always been. 

He's just Peter Pan. 

The boy that has been coming to my bedroom randomly for a little over five years now. Or has it been longer? He's just the boy that says whatever comes to his mind, and is so conceited there is no way he could think of anyone but himself. I shouldn’t be affected by anything happening between us tonight. All he's saying is just typical Peter babble. Right?

But then why is it stirring something different inside me than it ever has before? 

I have something for you, he randomly says, cutting off my thoughts. 

He stops playing and abruptly drops to one knee. 

My eyes grow wide. He's played around like this before. After all, everything is a game with Peter. What's more, he believes all games are real. To him, there is no such a thing as make-believe. But truth be told, seeing him on one knee does something to me that it shouldn't. Something that it hasn't before any other time we've played around like this. 

Holding out his hand, his fist clenched together tight, he smiles. Guess what it is.

My mouth grows too dry to speak, so I shake my head no. 

Come on, Wendy, he rolls his eyes impatiently. Guess.

Reluctant to play along, I mumble, I'm not good at guessing, Peter.

Just try, please, for me. He gives me a smirk that's so breathtaking it makes my knees weak, and so I concede.

A thimble, I say, but he just laughs, so I try again. Pixie dust. 

He glances over his shoulder for Tinker Bell, almost as if he's nervous. When he looks back my way, he shakes his head no, scrunches his nose, and closes his eyes in disgust. When they open again, they're even more impatient than before.

Um, I stammer. 'I told you I wasn't good at this. Let me see. A… a mermaid.

Wendy, Peter laughs. A mermaid wouldn't fit in my hand.

Delighted with his joke, he stands and takes a step toward me. Reaching out, he tenderly takes my hand in his. I try to focus on what he's about to give me, but I can't tell exactly what it is until he slips it into my palm and pulls me a step forward into the moonlight cascading over us through the open window. 

An acorn button. My heart skips a beat. A haunting thought plagues my mind. He’s given me one before. But I push that thought away quickly because that’s absurd. Just like before, the memory fades so fast I can’t hold onto it. Looking back up at him quickly, his eyes are still trained on my palm, his brow furrowed in deep thought, as if he’s wondering the same. Amusement dancing in his eyes, he gently rolls the button around in my hand. 

What… why… I stammer.

So you never forget me, Wendy, his brow furrows tighter, as if he’s struggling to remember something. So you always know, one day I'll come back. 

He walks away, and a piece of my heart forever goes with him. Regardless of if he one day changes my mind, I know I will always wait for him. I could never stop. I’ll always be here, wishing and hoping that when he inevitably leaves me, like he always does, that he'll one day come flying back through my window. 

Picking up his pipes, but hesitating before playing, his eyes flash with a darkness I’m not used to before he shakes it off and walks away towards my brother's room. Looking back down, I study my hand more closely. 

What does this all mean?

Don't lose it, though, he warns playfully, and I look up startled. If you do, I might forget my way back to you.

But Peter…

He stops and studies me more intensely, and I see a sliver of the darkness in them that I noticed just a moment ago. If we're one day torn apart, please, promise me you'll always wait for me. If you do, one night, no matter how long I've been gone, you'll eventually hear me crowing.

He gives me a wink over his shoulder just as he turns and disappears into the jack and jill bathroom that separates my room from my brothers'. I scurry after him worried as he starts playing his music, fearing he'll wake up my parents. Bumping into my dresser as I go, I trip over a bathroom mat and almost drop the acorn button. Clutching it close to my heart, I hear his pipes grow louder as I enter my brother's room and see him stop at the foot of John's bed.

For as long as I can remember, every night he's come to sit with me, he's never ventured into their room. Why now?

Suddenly, Peter flies onto John's bunk and kicks him to the floor. My hands cover my mouth in shock, but I keep the scream that wants to break free inside. We can't wake my mother - or worse, my father. But what Peter just did was so wrong and…

I say! John startles as he rubs sleep from his eyes and looks up at Peter. Wendy, is that really him? he shouts.

John is not much younger than Peter or myself. He should know better than to be so loud and almost wake our parents. I would expect an outburst like that out of Michael, but not him. I look between the two of them, and lower my hands. I’m about to answer when… 

Michael! John yells. Michael, he's here!

Michael bolts out of the bottom bunk, and I watch my brothers wrestle each other out of the way, trying to get closer to Peter, the boy they've heard so much about with the stories I've told them the last couple of years. Through their questions and their bouncing around, Peter's eyes never waver from mine

Is this real, or am I just dreaming?

The intense longing I felt before grows again between us, and I find it hard to breathe. His smile grows, and he stops my heart when he says, Every night with you, Wendy, is better than any dream I could ever imagine.

Before I can respond, he jumps off the bed and takes a couple of steps towards me. Are you ready, Wendy?

For… what, Peter?

The best part, he smirks. Leaning closer, he whispers, My favorite part. 

I don't know how I hear him over the noise John and Michael are making, but I do. It's only Peter and me as I stare into his eyes, and on a breathless reply, whisper back, I've been waiting my whole life, Peter.

My words hold more weight than he knows, but the way his eyes grow wide in understanding makes my heart swell. 

I prefer you like this, he whispers, taking a stray strand of my hair in his hand and twirling it around his fingertips. When your thoughts are so forthcoming. When you trust me enough to be so... vulnerable.

His words, his actions, they make me wish Peter and I were somewhere else. That we were some one else. Some other boy and girl who stood a chance at growing up, falling in love, growing old together, and never letting go of whatever it is that has blossomed and grown between us. As I stand there, staring into his eyes, I long for us to have the chance to be two old souls who never have to worry or think that one of us is moving on without the other. 

Because I know, as long as I stay here, I will always be growing up. I will always move on. Even when I don't want to. I'll grow older in a few years, all while I’m still stuck here waiting for him. All while Peter never grows up, always stays the same.

I lied, Peter says, breaking me from my thoughts. My brow furrows as he takes my hand, the one with his acorn button, and wraps it in both of his. About my favorite part, he whispers.

You did? I ask slightly alarmed. He nods yes, and my throat closes up, but I manage to get out one question. Why?

Because my favorite part hasn't happened yet, Wendy. 

He pulls me back towards my room, and my brothers follow. They're quiet now, wondering what's happening, and eager to hear everything being said. The window to my room is still open, and I study it momentarily before growing nervous. I hear the faint jingle of bells overhead and then look up. A sparkling light dances above our heads, and I smile in awe. 

It tickles as the fairy flies, and the dust dances across our skin. My brothers giggle as they take flight and follow Tinker bell towards the open window, then quickly up and out into the night. I go to yell, to protest, to stop them from possibly getting hurt, but Peter pulls me close. I glance up surprised, questions dance in his eyes as he wraps his arms around my waist, studying my face. 

Suddenly making up his mind, he whispers, It’s time, and all thoughts cease to exist - except one. 

I'm tired of waiting.   

Whatever he's asking, I’m in. I know it, feel it with my whole soul. Tonight, I’m more than ready for anything he has planned.

I want to show you my world, Wendy, he breathes, leaning in and holding his mouth close to mine.

The words shouldn't sound so seductive, but they do. I watch as his tongue wets his lips. His grip around my waist tightens. His eyes light up with mischief.

I want to show you… he starts to say, and my breathing quickens as I stare into his eyes, waiting for him to continue, How complete it feels with you finally in it.

Peter, I hesitate, but he leans in closer, and I suck in a sharp breath. 

That's my favorite happy thought, his breath feathers against my lips. You. Me. Neverland.

I blink a few times and try to clear my head so I can respond. He waits patiently. I can tell he's eager to hear what I have to say. Finally, I whisper, How do you know you'll still feel the same when you have me there?

I don't have to see you to feel you, he says, and that foreign feeling I've been experiencing since he flew through my window tonight ignites into so much more. I feel you with me every day. Every adventure I take. You're always with me.

I curl my other arm instinctively around his waist. You do?

His smile grows. 

I want to know you in ways I've never known you before, he confesses, In ways I can't while you stay here, and I'm always forced to leave. 

He hesitates for a moment. His chest rises and falls quickly. 

Do you want that, too? his voice shakes. For me to know all of you, Wendy?

I can't speak. I can't breathe. So, I give him a nod, just one simple tilt of my head. 

Yes.

That's my good girl, he smirks as he pulls me quickly to the window and jolts us forward into the night. Second star to the right, he grins, And straight on til morning… 

But every word, every thought, is lost as I fly high above the world with Peter for the first time, and I know there is no way I can ever come back down to earth, ever come back to a normal life. Not after tonight.

Chapter 2

Peter

B e careful, Wendy. I won’t be able to live with myself if you get hurt.

Reaching out to her quickly, I wrap my arm around her waist and hoist her up against my body, barely saving her in time to keep her from tumbling off the rock into the crashing waves. 

Oh my, Peter, thank you, her breath is warm against my lips as her eyes lift to meet mine. Her grip on my biceps tightens, and something stirs in my lower stomach as our bodies heat to an unbearable high. 

You know, she pauses, her breath now coming out in short, clipped, nervous exhales as we float to safety. The lost boys say you always wait until the last minute to save someone. 

Her eyes twinkle in the moonlight, and I can’t help but grin loving the look that’s staring back at me in her eyes right now. Parted full lips. Flushed cheeks. Startled expression. She’s intoxicating. Thrilling. Breathtaking. 

She swallows hard, her eyes fall to my lips. My arms instinctively tighten around her waist, pulling her closer than before as she continues, They say you like the rush of the risk, the cleverness in the catch, more than the life you’re saving.

Leaning in closer, she waits with bated breath for me to respond. After a moment, when I don’t, she sucks in a sharp inhale and holds it. Our toes hover above a rock, and I keep us there, suspended in an addictive paradise. I’ve brought her to see the mermaids. She’s wanted to see them since she came to Neverland a week ago. But now, I’d rather stay in this moment with her a little bit longer. Just the two of us. Because the way she’s always so responsive, so eager to explore more when it comes to the new way we’re feeling does something to me. It fuels the fire simmering in my veins with a carnal need I’ve never felt before.

You’re the only life worth saving, Wendy, I whisper against her lips. 

Her eyes widen. Her body trembles. I tighten my grip, pulling her closer, unable to get her close enough, in the hope that it stops her shaking. 

More than your own, Peter? she asks.

Without question, I wink, I’ll always put your life before mine, Darling.

Deciding there is someplace else I’d rather take her instead of the Mermaid Lagoon, I hoist her up in my arms, and quickly take flight. She lets out a light scream and hides her face in the crook of my neck. I can’t tell if her breath is rushed from my words, or the swiftness with which I flew her up in the air. I descend through the mist to Skull Rock, her arms tighten around my neck, and I feel her same rushed breath feather against my skin. This time, it comes out shaky, nervous, as she holds on tight. 

Stealing a glance down at her, I take in Wendy’s tightly shut eyes, scrunched-up nose, and frightened pursed lips. I laugh as I hover above the entrance to the cave. One day, Wendy, you won’t be so scared when I steal you away and out into the stars.

Her response comes quick, unrehearsed, full of a truth I’m not sure I’m ready to hear. One day, Peter, I’ll be able to breathe again when I’m around you, and not feel like I’m about to faint.

Ducking quickly into the eyes of Skull Rock, I set her down softly on her feet. She hurries out of my embrace and takes a few large breaths to settle her heart. Worried, I stalk off after her and force her to turn around and look me in the eyes. 

You feel faint? my voice comes out with more alarm than I intended as we stand on the rock ledge. Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t breathe, Wendy? If I knew…

Oh, Peter, she laughs, swatting my hand away playfully. Embarrassment creeps across her features, her cheeks flush, and she turns away quickly, stepping out of reach. Not everything someone says should be taken so literally.

Why not? I snap. 

My back stiffens, my stance hardens because I would never tell her anything untrue. I’m direct in everything I say. I choose my words diligently, precisely. Even if I do say the first thing that comes into my head. I’m genuine. If Wendy isn’t willing to do the same…

She spins on her heels, and her eyes lock on mine for only a second before anxiously darting around the dark rock cave we’re hidden away from the rest of the world in. She looks… nervous? Hesitant? Did I say something wrong? I wait, wanting to believe the best, but growing fearful maybe I’ve pegged Wendy all wrong from the start.

Oh no, not like that, it’s just that… her voice trails off as I stare at her with hooded, questioning eyes and take a cautious step toward her. She instantly takes one back. So, I take another one forward. Again, she backs away. 

Usually, I love games. But not right now. This dance is infuriating. I can’t and won’t enjoy the sport of it. Not when I feel like my Wendy could ever be untrue.

She takes a few more rushed steps backward as I stalk toward her until her back hits the stone wall behind her, and then looks away startled. What is this place, she asks as her eyes scan the dark tomb behind me, and she still refuses to meet my gaze.

Skull Rock, I whisper, taking a stray strand of her corn silk hair and brushing it behind her ear. Her body trembles as I continue, It’s where we take the ones we kidnap when we’re playing pirates. When the boys know me as Jas Hook.

Do you kidnap a lot of people, Peter? Her eyes finally drift to find mine, and it’s my turn to feel faint. The longing. The desperation. The need building between us makes my hands start to shake. I suck in a shaky breath and go to speak, but she cuts me off, Before you kidnapped me, that is?

You came willingly, I correct her with a mischievous smile. Brushing her cheek tenderly with my right hand, my thumb grazes downward to her mouth. I gently touch my fingertips across her lips as I say, Something tells me you’ll always come willingly.

Resting my left palm against the stone at the side of her cheek, I lean in and wait for her to answer. To say something, anything, but again, she refuses to even look me in the eye. Instead, to my surprise, she places both her palms against my chest and attempts to hold me at a distance.

Please, she begs in a whisper, and something deep inside that feels dark when I’ve only ever felt light begins to stir. 

I like the sound of her begging. A lot, I decide, as I cock my head to the side and study her. Her breath is rushed as it feathers against my lips. I slowly tip her chin up and force her to look me in the eye. 

Do you feel faint now,Wendy? She still doesn’t say a word. If you need air, Darling, I find myself whispering, all you have to do is ask.

You’re my air, Peter.

I take another step into her on instinct. Caging her against the wall, my thumb brushes against her bottom lip. I feel her chest rise and fall quickly against my own. She’s nervous. Excited, perhaps? Just like me, I’m hoping. 

But unlike her, my breaths are steady. Deep. Intentional. Full with deliberate ease. A knowing. 

She belongs to me. 

The same foreign, dark feeling I experienced earlier builds and pumps fast through my veins. I’ve felt this way for her before, a few times in fact. But never as strongly as I do now when she’s pressed deliciously against me for the first time. I can feel every curve of her soft skin, and it drives me crazy as she subconsciously arches into my embrace. 

It’s exhilarating.

My right hand snakes behind her neck, pulling her from the wall. I haven’t been able to think straight since the night I flew back to London and noticed how much she’d changed. Blossomed. Developed into something so mouth-watering, so tempting, so addictive I know I won’t be right again until I have her in a way I’ve never let myself crave anything ever before.

Her eyes plead with mine, craving something we know we’re on the cusp of discovering, but don’t know how to grasp just yet. 

Maybe that’s part of the magic.

Maybe something so strong, so perfect, can’t be contained. 

Maybe the only way to believe in the magic is to let it consume you, control you, dominate you, like my Wendy has somehow managed to find a way to rule over me.

My thumb brushes across her bottom lip. A whimper escapes her lips and echoes through Skull Rock. It floats teasingly through the air between us, and it takes all my willpower not to claim her, body and soul, like I desire most. 

Are you nervous? I whisper, gazing at her mouth, eyes, and beautiful golden hair.

Should I be? she murmurs back hesitantly. 

Entranced, mesmerized, her eyes hood with an alluring charm I’ve never seen before. It fascinates me. Lures me closer. Her body shakes. She tries to hide it. She tries to look confident, but behind the mask she’s wearing, I notice her shyness. I feel her insecurity. I understand her need for modesty without her even having to say a word. 

Though, I don’t think I can honor it tonight.

I told you I want to know all of you, Wendy.

She sucks in a sharp breath. Her eyes drop hesitantly between us. She tries to back away, but I don’t let her go. Tightening my grip around her waist, a hunger I’ve never embraced beckons to be unleashed. Something about the way she denies what she wants most makes something inside me snap. It makes me want to discover everything we’re both craving.

I’ve never… - I hear her mind whisper.

I’ve never either, I answer, and she stills in my arms. Her eyes search mine wanting to know how I know. How I can read her so easily. But it’s a magic trick I haven’t revealed to her yet. Felt this. Wanted this, I confess. 

She stops breathing. Closing her eyes, she bites down on her bottom lip. She wants this. I know it. Her body is hesitant, but her mind tells me only one thing.

More.

Desperate to give her what she asks, I push her back against the wall, and a startled gasp escapes her lips. 

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, I murmur against her skin. My head drops to her neck, and I watch, captivated, aroused, as goosebumps break out across her tender flesh. I gently place a kiss against her collarbone and whisper, I don’t know what I’m not supposed to do, either. 

My breath comes out in rushed, heated waves against her skin the longer I hold her against me and neither of us says a word. She lets out another whimper. One filled with pain, with pleasure. My eyes flash back to hers. It’s then I notice they’re still closed. What’s more, she still hasn’t taken a breath.

Wendy, I plead, leaning my face closer to hers. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. I lick my lips. My gaze studies her mouth. 

Mine, my heart whispers.

More, her mind screams.

If you need air, Darling, my lips gently brush against hers, all you have to do is ask.

She gasps, sucking in a sharp breath. I fist her locks in my hand, her fingers run recklessly through my hair, and our mouths crash against one another for the first time.

Her right leg wraps around my waist as she fists my shirt tightly in her small palm. I stumble back a step from the force, from her need, and then push her back against the wall with greed. Instinctively, I bring my hand up under her other thigh and lift her into the air. Like second nature, she wraps both legs around my middle as my hands eagerly rise up her curves, then settle lovingly against both sides of her face. She pulls me closer, and I willingly comply.

She opens up for me like a blessing, a curse, a heaven I don’t deserve. 

More - her mind screams.

Mine, my mind thunders.

My teeth nip at her bottom lip, and she whimpers. 

Again, her mind pleads

I repeat the action, and she releases a sexy moan.

God, her mind purrs, the only thing better than that is your hands in my…

I reach up and take a fist full of hair. She gasps, pauses momentarily, and then devours my lips with a ravenous greed.

Sweet heavens, his hands, his kiss, his body…

I press her up against the wall firmly, leaving no room for anything to come between us. Making sure she feels every want, every need, so there is no secret how badly I want to take this further.

Right there…

Her mind screams as our bodies move together rhythmically, beautifully, like they were made for each other. 

Don’t stop…

And I don’t. I push limits. Destroy boundaries. Take - like our life depends on the fire in our next touch.

My lips fall to her ear, and I whisper, The only thing more beautiful than the feeling of you in my arms, is when you teach me what you like, Wendy.

She stills. My eyes open and catch her startled stare. She doesn’t pull away, but questions linger in her gaze. With my mouth against her lips, I breathe her in and ask, Is that ok?

She doesn’t respond, only leans in and kisses me back so deliberately, with so much passion, my toes curl. She arches into me, and her soft curves pressing into my firm chest push me over the edge. A sound escapes my lips I’ve never heard. Carnal need. A fierce want to claim mixes with a demanding urge to take. 

More, her mind purrs.

Mine, my heart screams.

I hold her for minutes I wish were hours as we explore each other in a way we’ve never thought possible. Her lips on mine feel mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. I’m instantly obsessed. Hooked for life. I know I will never get enough of Wendy for as long as we live.             

Our mouths part only to take a desperate breath before deepening the kiss again.

She’s the only girl for me. 

She’s always been the only girl for me.

As I hold her, explore her, visions of us flash through my mind. I’m unsure if some are real or just a dream from another life. Regardless, there is one thing I know for certain, my heart has only ever belonged to Wendy. Taking a step like this feels so right, inevitable. We can’t deny each other any longer.

More, Peter, she whispers aloud for the first time as my mouth falls back to her neck. I need more.

I kiss, taste, ravage every inch of her she’ll let me, but it still isn’t enough. Delicately, my lips search a trail to her ear. Time stands still, and I welcome the serenity of the moment, savoring it and her, committing it to new memories I never intend to part with. I want to remember every second of feeling her pressed against me and tasting her kiss for the first time. 

Finally, I break the silence. Do you feel faint now?

No, she whispers. 

I want to make you feel faint, I confess as my lips continue to commit her taste to memory. With patient need, I lovingly kiss a path back to her face, across her cheek, until my mouth hovers above hers. I want to make your world go black and be the only one that breathes you back to life. Gives you air, Darling.

I’ve never… she breathes against my lips, confessing her private thoughts from earlier.

Neither have I, I whisper back. But I want this… Need this… Need you. 

Again, she closes her eyes, sucks in air, holds it tight in her lungs. The words I’ve said, what’s happening between us, it’s stealing her away from me in a moment where I need her here most. 

We can’t have that. 

She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t release the breath she’s holding. Anxiety gets the better of me. Maybe she’s not thinking what I’m thinking, so I ask, Do you feel the same, Wendy?

Right now, I can’t read her thoughts. I don’t know why, but she seems to be guarding them. I need her to want me the way I’ve grown to need and want her. Anxiously, I wait for her response. But she doesn’t open her eyes, and something inside my stomach feels sick. 

If this is just another one of her games I didn’t see coming, I’ll …

But then I hear her.

If I tell him the truth, he’ll be too scared.

My brow furrows. 

Scared of what?

Before I can ask, she takes a breath, her eyes flutter open, and her small, timid voice breaks through the fear in my mind. I’ll always need you, Peter. I always have.

She doesn’t say more. I can