The sight of her, the feel of her, the sound of her moaning snaps the last thread of my control.
I bury myself deep and come with a guttural groan.
My hand flexes on her throat, holding her through it while I empty everything I have inside her.
We shudder together, breathing raggedly, resting my forehead into the crook of her neck.
I don’t pull out, not yet.
Keeping my hand around her neck, soft now, I stroke my thumb across her pulse point, as I kiss her, tasting the salt of her tears.
“Mine,” I whisper against her lips.
She smiles, tugging my lower lip with her teeth. “Yours,” she breathes, tangling her hands in my hair.
As I pull out, I collapse beside her, pulling her close as the moonlight fades and our breaths sync.
“You okay, sunshine?” I murmur, the words catching in my throat.
She nods, smiling faintly against my chest. “More than okay.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in. “Good,” I whisper. “’Cause I don’t think I could let you go right now.”
For now, she’s mine, and that’s all that matters.
layla
. . .
Reed sits next to me on the porch steps, his shoulders slumped, as his fingers trace the condensation on a glass of sweet tea.
He hasn’t said much tonight, and neither have I. Everything between us already feels like a ghost.
Tomorrow, I’m gone.
I whisper, “Say something.”
He looks at me, his eyes shadowed in the porch light. “What do you want me to say, Layla? That I hate this? That I’d stop time if I could?” His voice breaks halfway through. “You already know that.”
I stand before I can lose my nerve. “Dance with me.”
He looks at me for a long moment, his jaw clenched, throat working.
Before he can think better of it, he nods once, setting the glass down, and goes inside.
A minute later, music flows through the screen door as the opening chords ofFade Into You by Mazzy Stardrift into the night.
He steps back out, walking towards me, his eyes never leaving mine.
When he reaches me, he slides his hand to the small of my back and the other to mine.
I press my palm flat against his chest, right over his heart, feeling it beat beneath my touch.
We begin to move, barely, just enough to call it dancing. The grass feels cool beneath my feet as the wind tickles my bare ankles beneath my jeans.
Rain begins to trickle on us, soaking us in the night, but we don’t care as we continue to sway to the beat.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I whisper.
