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From the Wreckage
  • Текст добавлен: 17 сентября 2016, 20:39

Текст книги "From the Wreckage"


Автор книги: Melissa Collins



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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Five minutes pass in radio silence. After another text, worry starts in.

Only hours after voicing my concerns about something happening to David and he’s not answering. Piece by fragile piece, it feels as if the ground is falling out from below me. Taking a few deep breaths, I manage to calm myself enough to put a logical thought together. Jade’s phone goes right to voicemail and so does Ian’s.

What the hell is going on?

It’s possible that he was called on for another shift after his test and he hasn’t had a chance to let me know yet. Or he could have been in an accident on his way home.

Sitting here thinking about it isn’t helping at all. All it’s doing is letting my mind fill with all the possibilities, each one more grave than the last.

Figuring that I’m rendering myself useless by leaning up against a car which won’t start, I pull up the number to a taxi service. Just as the other end picks up, Tim’s car pulls alongside my dead one. “Can you hold on, please?” I ask as someone answers my call.

Turning toward Tim, I huff in frustration as his passenger window slides down. “Can you give me a lift?”

“Of course,” he answers happily.

“Thanks, but I’m good now, actually,” I dismiss the taxi man.

“Where to, Miss Daisy?” Tim tips his imaginary hat, reaching over to the passenger door and opening it for me.

“Thank you.” Sighing, I slide into the seat and wipe the sweat dripping from my brow. “The freaking thing won’t start.”

“Luckily for you I forgot something inside. Otherwise you would have melted out here in the blacktop wasteland.” His jokes become slightly funnier as the cool air in the car washes over me. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Let me take a look.”

Before I can protest, saying that I’ll have it towed and taken care of later, he’s out the door and opening the hood of my car. Since I know nothing about cars, I mean other than where to put the key and the whole gas on the right and brake on the left thing, I can’t really tell if Tim knows what he’s doing.

I’m too busy sending out more texts to David and calling him that I don’t even see Tim hook up the jump cables to our cars. In fact, I’m so distracted I don’t even realize he’s run up to his classroom, retrieved the books he needed, and returned to the car until the door slams shut.

“So, looks like the battery wasn’t the problem,” he says, sliding into the seat.

“Huh?” I blurt, looking up from my silent phone.

He tips his head at my car sitting in front of us. Not running.

“Your car. You know the thing that goes vroom vroom, drives you places.” Waving a hand in front of my face, he makes sure my eyes are working. “Looks like you’re going to have to have it towed after all. Want me to give you a ride home?”

One last look at my phone and still no responses from anyone. “Please. That would be really nice of you.”

It’s a quiet fifteen minute ride back to my apartment. Even as Tim’s car pulls into the spot usually reserved for me, I can’t tear my focus away from my still silent phone. “Hey,” he says, concerned. Covering my hand with his, he squeezes gently before letting go. “Everything’s fine. Maybe his test ran late. Or he’s stuck in traffic or something like that. There’s no need–”

Twisting in my seat to face him, I sigh, rolling my eyes. “To get worked up over something I don’t know anything about. I know,” I finish his thought for him, taking a deep cleansing breath. “Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.” Swallowing back the rising emotion, my throat feels thick. What if something really did happen to him? It’s a feeling I just can’t seem to shake. Pushing past my own restraint, a tear rolls down my cheek.

Seemingly without thinking about it, Tim wipes away the tear with his thumb, holding my cheek and jaw in the process. The entire exchange is far too familiar, and not at all the kind of friendship I need right now.

All it does it make me think of David and wonder why the hell he’s not calling me back.

“No problem. Talk to you soon.” We make plans to meet up at least once more before the school year starts to get the room all situated and then I step out of the car.

Walking toward my door, I promise myself not to think the worst. Pushing it open, my eyes are glued to my phone and I don’t even realize what’s going on around me.

The kitchen table to my left is set as if it belongs in the finest restaurant. David is sitting on the couch in front of me, two glasses of untouched champagne waiting on the coffee table.

When my eyes settle on his, relief like I’ve never known washes over me. Rushing to his side, as fast as I can, I nearly stumble over the edge of the area rug. “David,” I cry. “My God, I was so worried. What are you doing here?” My hands race all over his chest searching for anything at all that might be wrong with him. Sure, my imagination is getting the best of me, but I’ve had well over an hour and a half of creating the worst case scenario in my head.

“What am I doing here?” he seethes. “How about what was he doing here?”

“Who?” I question. Defensiveness sets in when I catch wind of his tone. “What are you talking about?”

“Tim. I saw you in his car.” He shoots up from the couch, nearly knocking over the glasses of champagne. “I saw you holding hands so maybe, if you don’t mind,” he snarls with heavy sarcasm. “Maybe you could tell me what the fuck is going on.”

The stuttering noises falling from my mouth are born out of being shocked by how he’s misread the situation. But of course he mistakes it for guilt.

“Unbelievable, Grace,” he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “You know,” he laughs, a cynical puff of noise. “It figures it would happen this way. I finally find you and fall for you, harder than I ever fucking thought possible.” Raking his hands through his hair, he stands at the window through which I’m now realizing he saw the scene he’s ranting about as it unfolded.

His broad, strong back is all I see as I stand behind him. Tension-filled anger rolls off him. Even as I wrap my arms around his body from behind, it doesn’t let up. Resting my cheek against his back, I breathe in his clean scent. “It’s not at all–”

Spinning around with a force so strong, he nearly knocks me over, his face twisted in anger and pain. “What I think?” he spits. Finishing my sentence with venom in his words, I pull away from him in disgust. “I don’t even want to hear it. I need to go.”

Storming over to the front door, I beat him to the punch. “Go right ahead. You’re being such an ass right now. Not trusting me and then not even giving me a chance to explain myself. You’re pissed off because of what you thought you saw, but right now I’m angry as fuck at what I’m seeing in your juvenile behavior.”

He stands there, dumbfounded, letting my words hit him. “Just get out.” Holding my arm to the side, I literally show him to the door.

“Grace,” he protests.

“I said get out,” I seethe. “I don’t even want to look at you. How could you not trust me?” Tears threaten and I hold them back. I’ll reserve them for when I’m alone.

“No, I’m not leaving.” He steps toward me, lifting my chin with his fingers. Looking into my eyes, he cringes when he sees the hurt there. Lacing his fingers with mine, he walks us to the couch. He takes a deep breath, turning to face me. “I’m sorry for getting pissed off.” His words are genuine, but still slathered in frustration. “His hands were on you and you were smiling and I lost my shit.” His jaw clenches as he rakes his hands through his hair, pulling on the ends.

“My car broke down and I tried calling you. When you didn’t answer, I thought something had happened to you,” I explain calmly, trying to put myself in his shoes. His reaction isn’t all that far off from the one I had when I saw him leave the bar with Kelsey months ago. Seeing that left me feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.

And he wasn’t even mine at that point.

But now, there’s no doubt in my head or my heart—I am his. There’s nothing possessive or demanding about it. My belonging to him is as simple as my need for air.

“That’s crazy.” The anger vanishes from his face, morphing into something that looks a lot like disbelief.

“You run into burning buildings for a living. The possibility of you getting hurt . . . or worse even . . . it’s real,” I choke out. Giving in to the tears that were building earlier, I lose the battle with my restraint. Tears stream down my cheeks. “When I couldn’t get in touch with you, I worried that you were at work and something happened.”

“You knew I was at my test.” He’s right. Somewhere in my brain I knew I was getting ahead of myself, making something out of nothing, but somehow the worst case scenario was all I could focus on.

“That made it worse,” I add, watching him as he grows more confused. “It made me realize how your job is your life. How dedicated you are and how much you’re willing to sacrifice. When you’re at work . . .” I catch my breath, struggling to find the words to convey my emotions, “If I don’t hear from you for more than a few hours, the anxiety consumes me. I get panicky and restless. And then, when the phone rings, or I see a text come in, the unease evaporates.”

“Sweetheart.” Swiping a tear away from my face, he presses his lips to my cheek. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. It’s something I’m going to have to get used to.” Inhaling a shuddery breath, I lean into his touch. “Because if spending the rest of my life with you is the tradeoff for a few panic attacks and a bunch of sleepless nights, then I still make out pretty well.”

His eyes widen. “The rest of your life?”

“Shit,” I curse. “Did I say that aloud? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I know guys don’t want to hear things like that. I’m sorry. I take it–”

Pressing his finger to my lips, he shushes me. “Don’t take it back. Ever.” He kisses me, sweetly at first, then something deeper and more meaningful takes over. Pulling his lips from mine, he reaches behind me and takes something out from behind the couch. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he’s holding a gift bag in his hands.

“That better not be–”

Shooting me a cockeyed look, he shakes his head. “No, babe.” When he adds, “Not yet,” my heart races. “Just open it, please.”

As soon as I take the bag from his hand, I realize it’s way too heavy to be disguise packaging for a ring box. Relief battles disappointment, but he said not yet and that’s good enough for now. Hidden under the tissue paper is a navy blue T-shirt. The color is the same as the majority of his collection of FDNY shirts. When I lift it out of the bag and read the red and white screen printing across the front, I break out into a fit of hysterical laughter. “Oh, my God. No you didn’t.” Holding my brand new I heart David Andrews shirt against my chest, I shoot him a huge, goofy smile.

“I did,” he admits proudly.

“It’s perfect.” Turning it over, I laugh even more when I see he’s printed the exact words I spoke the other night across the back. “You are such a dork.”

“Yep, but I’m your dork.”

“I’m sorry for getting so worried.” Picking at an imaginary piece of lint, I keep my eyes focused on my new shirt. I know it was wrong of me to overreact like that, but there was nothing I could do to stop the panic from controlling my brain.

Covering my hand with his, he draws my attention back to his gorgeous face. “I’m sorry, too. It was wrong of me to jump to conclusions about Tim.” His name still sounds foul coming out of David’s mouth, but I know he means every word of his apology.

Needing to put all this behind us, I change the subject. “So, how was your test? Did you ace it?” Running his hand through his hair, he seems tense. Shit. Maybe it didn’t go that well.

Shrugging, he deflects with a simple, “It was okay.”

“Okay?” I nearly shriek. “You studied that fine ass of yours off for months. It had to be better than okay.” Butterflies take flight in my belly thinking about him and those glasses. Damn, I don’t mind when those are around.

“Fine. It was better than okay,” he admits. “Ian and I compared answers after the test with a few other guys there. It was a fair test and the prep materials were right in line with everything, so I feel good about it.”

A sense of awe descends over me. This beautiful, kind, intelligent man is all mine. As if I hadn’t already, I fall hard for him. “I’m so freaking proud of you. And I’m so happy you were here, despite the misunderstanding.” Sliding closer to him, my leg brushes against his. My fingers dance along his corded forearm, heat passing between us. “I like when you’re here.”

His eyes scan my face before settling on my lips. Taking them in a moment of passion, he pulls me impossibly close to him. “I do, too.” His strong hand dives into my hair, pulling me to within an inch of his soft, full mouth. “And you’re not getting rid of me,” he asserts.

With his lips moving with reckless abandon against mine, he slides onto the couch, pulling me onto his lap as he does so. In a slow, smooth motion, he lifts my shirt over my head. Shivers race over my body as he unhooks my bra, running his short nails across my skin.

Frantic need takes over in my own movements as I toss his shirt to the ground, the rest of our clothes following quickly behind. Lifting his hips, he slides his shorts off, pulling a condom out before dropping them to the floor.

“You know I’m on the pill,” I murmur against his skin as he opens the wrapper.

“I know, but I thought–” Stealing his words with a searing kiss, the rest of his sentence dies on his lips.

“Don’t think, baby. Don’t think at all.” Boldness flows through my veins, lifting me from his lap. With one leg on each side of his body, I stand on the couch, straddling him. Button followed by zipper, I lower my shorts an inch or two, exposing the black lace of my thong.

His strong fingers grip the waistband, tugging them down the rest of the way. Using his shoulders for leverage, I keep my eyes locked on his as he strips me bare. With my pussy no more than a few inches from his face, it’s all I can do not to give into the shaking in my legs.

There’s no need to worry about losing my balance, or falling on my face. David’s hands, strong and warm, wrap around my waist, holding me steady. “God, you’re fucking beautiful. This hot,” he licks at my lips, “tight,” he licks again, a slow stroke right up the center, lingering for a touch on my clit, “wet pussy is perfect and it’s all mine.” Resting his head against the back cushion, he pulls me onto his face. Worried about suffocating him, I try to pull away. Of course he’ll have none of that, forcing me to stay right where I am.

“Holy shit, David . . . oh, my God . . .” I moan, my hips moving on their own accord. Within a minute, he has me right on the edge of a powerful orgasm. My entire body is shaking, vibrating, pulsating with the need to release all of this built up need, desire . . .

Love.

The heat of his tongue thrashing against my clit is gone all too soon. Effortlessly, he pulls me down onto his lap, cupping my ass so that only the tip of his body is entering mine. “Are you sure? Because I can–”

I can think of no better way of shutting him up than sinking down onto him with torturous slowness. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life.” Burying him deep inside, I wrap him in my arms.

In that moment, everything in my life shifts.

Every touch, every kiss, every word prior to this point fades to grey.

“The other night”—I lift my hips a little, mourning the loss of his fullness—“when I almost said those words . . .” I sink back down, loving the feel of every vein and ridge pressing against my tight walls. He thrusts up as I push down, skin to skin, heart to heart. It’s almost more than I can take.

“Yes,” he growls, digging his fingers into my flesh.

“It was so natural to say them because,”—I lift again, my legs shaking—“because I’ve loved you for as long as I could remember.”

Gripping me with all of his strength, there’s no room at all between us.

Connected in every way imaginable, we move as only we know how. “As a kid, I loved you because you saved my life,” I moan the words into his ear, letting their fullness fade to nothing more than a breathless whisper. “Then I loved you in my dreams. Who I thought you’d become. The man I’d hoped to be reunited with someday.”

He loses control of his rhythm, his hips driving up into mine as his rough hands push me down onto his needy body. “And now.” I take control, pushing down on him, letting him fill me completely. Stroking my hand over his stubbled jaw, I memorize every line and curve of his beautiful face. “Now, I love you for everything you are and all the things you aren’t. I love you for the fairy tale you’ve given me and for all the tomorrows to come.”

He nuzzles his face between my breasts, kissing, nibbling, licking, all while making love to me like he never has before. There’s a languorous fluidity with every touch and taste. Second by second, we race toward oblivion, hands tied together, bodies connected in more ways than I ever thought possible.

He slides his hand between our bodies, strumming his fingers against the rounded curve of my clit. “All my life,” he begins to profess. “I never thought I’d find you again. And then one night you were in a dream. So clear and perfect, every vision was real and alive,” he grounds out his words, focusing all his energy on making me come and stopping himself from doing the same thing. “And then you were my reality. You were right there in front of me and I might not have said the words right then and there, but I knew I would do anything in my power to keep you. To make you mine.” On his last word, his thumb takes up a furious pace. “And you are, Gracie. Every part of your body.” There’s a connection between his soul and mine, rivaled by the connection between his thumb and my body. “I love you more than should be allowed.”

With a few more flicks of his finger, a few more drives into my body, he comes wildly, burying his face in my breasts. My hips move on their own accord, my orgasm crashing into me without warning. “Oh, God . . . oh, God . . . oh, God . . .” My words, staccato breaths of release matching the movement of my pulsing body, fall into the crook of his neck.

But his words fall directly into my heart. Growing roots in my soul, they take up residence there.

They become part of who I am, the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins.

And when he quietly whispers them one more time, a soft, sweet, “I love you,” I become whole in a way I’d never known I was broken.

“Babe, you need to relax. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” My words are utterly useless as she races around the apartment. “Seriously, Grace,” I call out, the tone of my voice a bit more stern. “Stop.”

Resting her hands on the counter, she takes a break from putting her lunch together. Feeling somewhat helpless, I watch her shoulders rise and fall under the weight of her deep breaths. She doesn’t turn around to face me so I walk up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. With my face nuzzled into her neck, I feel her body relax. “You’ve been going non-stop for hours.” I press my lips to her neck. “Making a last trip to your classroom—even though you were there all day.”

Cutting in, she says, “Well, thank God I did that. The L fell off the wall. So instead of it saying WELCOME across my bulletin board, it read WE COME!”

“I bet there would have been a line outside your door,” I joke.

She slaps me hard on my chest. “David,” she yells. “Eww, that’s gross. They’re high school juniors.”

Holding my hands up in mock defense, I laugh. “What? I’m just saying. With you looking like you do, you may as well play ‘Hot for Teacher’ as the kids walk into the room.”

Disgusted, she shoots me a look. “Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine. Back to the list of things that made Grace go crazy today. After going back to school, you ran to the store for last minute supplies—for the second time. You spent over an hour laying out your clothes. Then it was on to reprinting your lessons and memorizing student names—even though you’ve never seen their faces. And now you’ve been stressing over what to bring for lunch for about twenty minutes.” Exhaustion pales her face. Smiling at her, I brush my knuckles against her cheek. “Will you let me help, finally?” Her eyes flutter closed as I tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“Yes,” she gives in, sighing. Finally having run out of energy, her body goes slack in my arms. “Maybe I’ll take a bath and try and unwind. It was really overwhelming to be in meetings all day and then do everything I needed to get done before the students come in. So many new people to meet and names to remember. Then the policies and procedures. Meeting dates and special events. My head is spinning and I haven’t taught a single class.”

“Sweetheart.” Tipping her chin up, I gaze into her bright blue eyes. “Shh,” I quiet her. “You kicked ass today and you’ll kick ass tomorrow. But not if you keep getting yourself all worked up like this.” Popping a kiss to her forehead, I hug her through a few more of her deep, calming breaths. Holding her at arm’s length, I say, “I’ll make your lunch. You take a bath. Then we’ll go to bed.”

“Sounds good. Thank you.” She brushes her lips against my stubbled cheek before walking away and toward the bathroom. “Oh and, David?”

“Yeah,” I respond, looking up from the mess she’s spread out across the kitchen counter.

“You’re cute when you get all listy,” she jokes, laughing as she walks away.

Shaking my head, I get to work. As I put together everything she’ll need for her first day of school, I overhear her singing too loudly in the bathroom. As I spread the mustard onto the bread, I catch a glimpse of the rest of our life. It’s a strange moment, one that freezes me in the here and now while everything around me fast forwards on.

With sharp focus, I see everything. A big house and a few kids. Happiness and tears. Laughter and love. Though intangible, I watch as if floating above my own existence as I arrive home from work. Kids racing toward my car, telling me all about their day at school. Grace watches from the front door, relieved I’m home from a twenty-four hour shift. Catching sight of the love and happiness glimmering in her eyes, my chest fills with more emotion than I can put to words.

I’ve heard people say they experience an “ah ha” moment, a definitive slice of time when their entire lives make sense.

This is that moment for me.

All the decisions I’ve made to this point have led me to Grace. To our future. To all the possibilities I’m not even aware of yet.

In the four months we’ve been together, I’ve come to love her more than I’ve loved any woman. And in the last four minutes, I’ve dedicated all my tomorrows to her. Without a doubt, Grace not only owns my heart, my here and now, all of my todays, she resides in all my tomorrows.

Smiling like a fool, I pull out my phone and look up her favorite poem. She mentioned it way back on that first night she took care of me after my pulled muscle. At that point, I filed it away, knowing one day it would be useful.

Knowing this will make her smile tomorrow, I copy the lines of E.E. Cummings’ “i carry your heart,” onto a piece of paper and tuck it inside her lunch.

After putting everything back into the fridge, I punch out a quick text to Jade, seeing if she has some free time tomorrow.

Sure. What’s up?

Need to do a little jewelry shopping. Figured you might want to help.

Are you serious? You better be serious. OMG this is amazing.

Laughing at the words popping up on my screen, I realize I probably shouldn’t have said anything until I was face to face with her.

I am serious. Very serious in fact. But you can’t say anything. You got that, loose lips?

Pinky swear. I’ll call you now.

And in total Jade fashion, she includes an emoji of said pinky swear.

No. She’s here now. I don’t want her to hear anything.

We finish out the rest of the conversation, making plans to meet up during her lunch break at a jewelry shop close to her office. I delete the texts to be sure that a certain hot redhead doesn’t see anything she shouldn’t. Just as I slide my phone back, I hear the bathroom door open and soft footsteps pad into the bedroom.

“What’s the goofball smile for?” Wrapped in a towel, her skin all pink from the hot water, Grace sits on the edge of her bed. Her red hair is darker when it’s wet, looking more brown than red, but beautiful nonetheless.

Sitting down next to her, I turn her so she’s facing away from me. The drops of water on her shoulders mix in between her freckles, tempting me to drink them up before I devour her. “Nothing you need to worry about,” I answer as my fingers move over her skin, working out the knots and kinks from the day.

Rolling her neck to the side, she groans, making my body instantly stiffen. “That feels so good.”

Fighting as hard as humanly possible, I resist the urge to kiss her neck, lick those damn droplets of water. “Good, baby. Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

She groans again, leaning into my touch and what I intended to simply be a massage to help her ease into the night quickly morphs into something more. Reaching around to the front where the towel is tucked into itself, I unwrap the fabric, letting it drift down her body. “David,” she whispers my name. Her shallow breaths convey her need and amplify my own.

The spot where neck meets shoulder calls to me, making it impossible not to nibble on the soft skin there. My lips move across her neck and shoulders as my fingers work their way down her chest, tracing the curves of her lush breasts. Hardened into stiff points, I toy with her nipples, making her lean back into my chest. With her back to my chest, and the towel in a damp heap on the floor, I openly take in her body. Naked and writhing into my touch, Grace’s beauty is too much for me to take in. Needing more room than only the edge of the bed, I pull us more fully onto the mattress. Moving her head into my lap, her face rests on my upper thigh. “Open your legs, baby. Let me touch you. Make you come.”

Without hesitation, she spreads her legs, exposing her sweet flesh. My fingers dip into her tight pussy, reveling in her warmth. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re so hot.”

Near breathless, she writhes against me, grinding into my hand. I arch my body as her hands move to my waist. Sliding down the waistband of my mesh shorts and boxers, she wraps her hand around my cock. Pulling it toward her mouth, she licks and kisses it as my finger circles her clit. “Your mouth. Holy shit,” I cry out when she takes me all the way to her throat. My fingers move frantically in her pussy, plunging deeper as her mouth takes more and more of my cock. Seeing this erotic fantasy play out right before my eyes is almost more than I can take. “I need to be inside you. Now,” I demand with one final circle around her clit.

In a quick move, we’re in the center of the bed, her soft, needy body beneath mine. Smirking down at her, I wrap an arm around her waist and flip her onto her stomach. Without saying a word, I move her body, loving how easily she complies. On her hands and knees, facing away from me, I stroke a hand down the center of her back. “You’re stunning.”

Shooting me a sexy-as-sin look over her shoulder, she tells me, “You’re pretty incredible, too.” Her eyes travel over my body, settling on my hand working over my cock. “Please tell me you’re about to use that on me.”

“Only ever you, baby,” I promise, my words holding more meaning than she can fathom right now. Teasing the wide head of my cock over her slick flesh, my legs begin to shake. Only Grace does this to me. Makes doing the simplest things, like breathing and holding my body steady, far too impossible. Easing into her, I revel in the warm deliciousness of her tight body opening for me. Her hands grip at the pillow, white knuckled and flexing in pleasure.

“Oh, God . . . David . . . oh, my God . . .” Her words fall from her lips, a delicate balance of curse and prayer, of satisfaction and need.

“I know, baby. Oh, God, do I know.” With each plunge, her body shakes more. Within seconds, she’s incapable of holding herself up. More than happy to help her out, I secure an arm around her waist, supporting her. The soft curves of her body fit perfectly into the muscled lines of mine. In a grip I’m sure will leave bruises on her hip, I hold her steady, diving into her from behind. She bounces on my lap, crying out my name on every hard thrust.

Running a hand down her stomach, I go further still, not stopping until it lands on her hardened clit. “Oh, fuck,” she growls. “It’s too much, baby. Too much. I can’t,” she begs, but I can’t tell what it’s for.

“What do you want?” I whisper into her ear. “Do you want me to stop?” My fingers stop their assault on her body. She whimpers in response, sounding as if she’s mourning the loss of my touch. “Want me to keep going then?”

“Just make me come. Please, I can’t take it anymore. You’re too much for me. It’s all too much.” Her admission, that she needs everything I can give her, sends me over some imaginary line of my control.

Picking up the pace, I drive into her from behind, loving the friction of her back to my chest. My finger circles her clit, bringing her right to that line with me. My legs start to buckle as the searing energy of my orgasm gathers at the base of my spine. “Fucking hell,” I ground out, spilling into her convulsing body.

In a breathless heap of tangled limbs, we fall to the bed. Sated and exhausted, Grace curls into my body, resting her head on my chest. Her fingers dance across my skin, tickling through my chest hair. “This is my favorite place to be.” With bright eyes, she looks up at me, smiling like a fool. “Right here next to you.”

“Naked, right?” I add, wrapping my arm tighter around her back.

The laughter in her face fades away. Smiling, her eyes wrinkle in the corners, making room for a single tear to fall. “Anyway possible. Naked, or clothed. Sleeping or awake. Laughing or fighting. Here.” Her fingers flex on my chest as she wiggles her body even closer to mine. “Next to you. In your arms. Breathing the same air as you. You’re where I always want to be, no matter what.” She presses her lips to my chest, right over my heart, as if she’s placing a seal on a sacred vow.


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