I should be getting used to this shit again. But does the desert ever get used to being without the rain, or does it just deal with it because it has to? Because I feel like I was a desert living through a drought for years, starved of human interaction and affection, barren, and then I finally got a downpour.
I've been filled with life again, but I know that I will have to face the drought once more.
She doesn't belong in this life.
She's too kind.
Too vibrant.
She hasn't just been the rain. She's also been the rainbow after the storm. Those bright, hopeful colors that indicate that the worst has passed. I don't know if it has, though.
Just as quickly as I decide that it's best if I leave her alone, she walks around the side of my house toward me, as if I conjured her up with my thoughts about her.
She looks like a beautiful breath of fresh air with her hair blowing softly in the breeze, and all thoughts of letting her go, drift away on that breeze.
Soft, warm, hazel eyes find me, and it suddenly feels like so much longer since I last saw her. My chest physically aches at the thought of having to give her up. I don't know if I can.
Especially not when I know what it feels like to have her in my arms.
What it feels like to be inside her.
What she sounds like when she comes on my dick.
And the look she's giving me right now like I actually mean something to her. Like I'm not dirt under her shoe.
Her steps increase as I stand from my chair. Those same feelings of being alive unfurl inside me. My heart ricochets in my chest, beating faster the closer she gets. She doesn't even stop when she reaches me, instead continuing forward until she's barreling into me and wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. As if it feels like it's been a lot longer for her as well.
My arms hold her close to me as I breathe in the floral scent of her hair. I want to ask her where she's been and why she left, but I don't want this slice of heaven to end.
Remi tilts her head up to me in what I've learned is an invitation, so I lean down and press my lips to hers. Kissing her has become one of my favorite things to do. I can never seem to get enough.
But all too quickly, she pulls away and leans back to look up at me. “I kind of missed you.”
Her voice is soft like a caress to my soul, and even though I missed her like crazy, I can't seem to force the same words out. She doesn't seem to mind, though, offering a warm smile while lifting a hand to my cheek.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“I don't really like surprises.”
That seems to amuse her at first, but then she takes a step back from me and begins gnawing at her bottom lip. I catch sight of her thumb rubbing along the tips of her fingers at the same time. I've seen her do it before, and I know she does it when she's nervous or something.
A sudden look of uncertainty crosses her features, putting me instantly on edge.
She looks over her shoulder to the area she just came from, and I follow her gaze there.
My insides twist with confusion when I see a man walking around the corner, and then in our direction.
What the hell?
Is this some sort of twisted joke?
Is this part of the scheme that I thought she was involved in at the beginning?
I turn back to her, not sure what I'm expecting to see, but it's not that soft, hopeful look on her face as she waits for my reaction.
Looking back at the guy, I watch as he approaches, and the closer he gets, the more familiarity tugs at the back of my mind.
The guy is in his late twenties. Black hair sits messily on his head like he's been running a hand through it multiple times. He's got a neatly trimmed beard, and he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt.
