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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

He growls, miserably, letting go of my collarbone, mashing his face into my chest again. “I don’t know how, Baz.”

“What, Simon.”

“To get enough.”

“You don’t have to get enough.” I push his wrists down. I pin his arms with my elbows. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His head falls back onto the pillow. I think he might be crying again. Maybe he wasn’t awake. Maybe this is all a bad dream for him.

My hair hangs in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Snow.”

“Come here,” he says. His wings are winding tighter around me. I can see the spikes curling over my shoulders. My knees give out, and my hips fall on him.

“Are you awake?” I ask.

“I think so.”

“Are you crying?”

“Yeah. Baz … come here.”

“I’m here.”

“Come closer.”

“All right.” My elbows give out, too. I let go of his wrists, and he wraps his arms around my waist. Arms. Wings. Legs. Tail.

“Closer,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Can.” He’s kissing my mouth with his teeth now, lips and tongue almost an afterthought.

I try to retract my fangs, but it’s hopeless, so I turn away and let him bite my face.

“Baz.” He’s biting my fangs through my cheek. “Baz…”

I’m awake. I’m thirsty. I’m dizzy. All the blood I have left has gone to my cock, and I’m running on fumes. On good manners and bad memories. “Simon,” I say, with my last measure of caution.

He’s all around me now. His heels are in my calves. His tail is around my ankle. I can feel the bones in his wings, like long fingers along my spine.

It isn’t enough.

“Simon,” I say, taking his head in my hands.

His skin is hot. So is mine. Under the blankets with him like this for hours, I could be mistaken for a living thing.

“Simon, Simon.”

He’s biting my neck, and I’m not biting his—but I am kissing him. I’m kissing his hair, his ear. I’m pulling up his shirt. “I love you,” I say. “I’m here.”

“Baz, I need—”

“Yes.”

“I can’t—” He’s pushing too hard to kiss. He’s holding too hard to touch.

I wrench my head back. “Simon, let me—”

He won’t let me pull away. His head is still in my neck. He’s panting. “Baz, I can’t—I need you.”

I’m kissing his cheek. My fangs are out, I can’t care. “Simon,” I slur, “my darling, my love…”

“I can’t … breathe,” he says. “It isn’t enough—It’s too much—I can’t—”

He’s crying. And clinging to me. Arms. Legs. Wings. Tail. All of him trembling.

I’m breathless, too, but in the wrong way now—the wind has changed. Hopefully it only just happened. Hopefully I didn’t misinterpret every moment of this moment.