“You never have to beg, baby,” I croon, pushing her panties aside to find she’s already soaking.
My fingers slide inside her easily. I know her body, have worshiped it countless times, and I will never get enough of it.
“Good girl. So wet for me already.” I pump them slowly at first, savoring the way she clenches around me. Her head falls back, chest rising and falling as I work her.
“You’re so damn sexy like this, Becca. Lying here on my truck, moaning for me.”
She whimpers, grinding into my hand. “Sam …”
That whispery plea undoes me. I curl my fingers deep, right where I know she loves it, and flick my thumb over her clit in tight circles.
“Becca,” I growl. “Eyes on me, baby. I want to see you fall apart on my hand.”
Her eyes snap to mine. I watch them go wide, then glassy as she tightens around my fingers and shatters.
“You did so good for me, sweetheart.” I lean down and kiss her temple, her jaw, the corner of her open mouth. Her makeup’s smudged, hair a wild halo around her flushed face.
We’re still tangled up, chest to chest, when I finally find my voice.
“You okay?”
She nods, catching her breath. “More than okay.”
I gently ease out of her, grab the blanket, and wrap it around us both. She turns in my arms, pressing her cheek to my chest. I hold her close, letting my heartbeat slow as we look at the stars.
“I don’t know if I deserve to say it yet … but I love you,” I murmur into her hair.
We lie here until Becca’s breath comes in quieter. I know she’s about to fall asleep. I kiss her hair gently.
“Don’t fall asleep yet, baby. Let’s get you back in your cabin.”
“Mhm,” she hums at me, letting me pull her along.
I grab her keys from my pocket and unlock the door. I pull it open and turn her toward me. Her adorable sleep face looks up at me, and I give her a gentle kiss.
“Sleep tight. Don’t forget to lock up.”
She nods softly. “Goodnight, Sam. Thank you for the date, it was the best foam tree moss I’ve ever had.”
I laugh. “Same. Sweet dreams.”
And with that, she closes the door.
I sit in the truck longer than I should. Hands still on the wheel. Because walking away from her again, even like this, feels wrong in a way I can’t explain.
27
SAM
Dating your wife when you’ve already been married is strange. I’m struggling to hold myself back in the role of “boyfriend” when all I want is to be her husband again. I miss seeing her every day. I miss the way she’d shove her cold feet under me in the middle of the night. I miss grocery shopping with her. Working on the house together.
But here I am—two weeks in—and still needing toscheduletime to see my wife.Tonight, there is another Zentrology gathering.
I hang back in the shadows, watching the girls laughing by the fire pit, twirling around each other in what I can only describe as some kind of wine-fueled pagan dance. It has Nessa’s name all over it.
I'm not here to crash the party; hell, I’m sure I would be unwelcome. There is a storm rolling in tonight, the first one since Becca moved into the cabin, and I wanted to make sure she is okay. She has always been scared of storms, and a bunch of half-drunk women alone in the woods can attract the wrong kind of attention.
Even if I’ve lost the right to be her husband, I haven’t lost the instinct to protect her.
