I snort despite myself, the laugh breaking through what’s left of the heaviness.
Therapy session adjourned.
twenty-nine
. . .
Rowan
Those five weeks were a lifetime. Excruciating. It was stupid to agree to the extension, I know that now. Three weeks away is bad enough as it is, but to turn that into over a month? What the fuck was I thinking?
My eyes move over the familiar stretch of land, the house in the distance as I pull up my driveway. Violet’s car is already parked out front, and it immediately brings a smile to my face.
Fucking hell, I missed her.
The second I cut the engine and step out of the truck, Violet’s running toward me, her hair wild in the breeze, Bramble bouncing at her heels.
I barely have a second to drop my duffel bag before she’s jumping into my arms with a force that knocks the wind out of me. It’s exactly what I need to settle every restless piece of me back into place.
“Rowan,” she breathes, her arms wrapping around my neck as she buries her face against my skin. She’s warm, soft, and smells like home. That month was worse than the six years apart.
I hold her tighter, as if I can somehow absorb all that lost time in this one embrace. The tension that’s been gnawing at me sincethe second I left starts to ease, the weight on my chest lifting with every second she’s in my arms.
“God, I missed you,” I murmur into her hair, my voice low and rough. I don’t even care if the words sound desperate, because they are. There’s no way to explain how much it hurt being away from her.
With her legs still looped around my waist, she pulls back to look at me, eyes full of unshed tears that reflect everything I feel. I lower my lips to hers. The kiss is gentle at first, soft and searching, as if we’re both trying to make sure this is real. Her lips tremble against mine, the slightest brush of them making my heart stutter, before she pulls me closer.
The rapid beat of her heart matches mine. She parts her lips, just enough for me to slip inside, and I groan at the sweetness of it. Her tongue brushes against mine, slow and tentative at first, but the connection deepens with every passing second, trying to make up for lost time.
Bramble whines at my feet and nudges my leg with her nose. Violet pulls away, her eyes a little dazed. I gently lower her to her feet and reach down to give the dog a scratch behind the ears.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s good to see you, too.”
Violet laughs. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
I trail her into the house, eyes snagging on the sway of her hips, the curtain of blonde hair falling down her back. The second she steps inside, I’m done pretending I have patience. I close the space between us in one stride, catch her wrist, and pull her back against me until she’s flush to my chest.
“Violet,” I rasp. “I need you.”
Her lips crash into mine, just as hungry and desperate as I am. Her taste is all I’ve been thinking about for a month, and now that I have it on my tongue, I can’t get enough. Her body melts against mine as her hands claw at the back of my neck, nails dragging through my hair.
And just when I think I’ve completely unraveled, she breaks the kiss with a breathless whisper.
“Come upstairs.”
Her fingers lace with mine, and she tugs me forward without looking back. I follow, heart hammering, blood pounding like war drums in my ears. Every step up the stairs stokes the fire inside me until I’m ready to combust.
When we reach my room, she turns, reaching for the hem of my shirt. I let her pull it over my head, her eyes roaming over me. Then she kisses me again—softer this time but no less intense with tongue and teeth and tangled breaths.
I push her hair off her face, needing to see her. “You sure?” I ask, my voice nothing but gravel and want.
She nods, eyes shining. “Please, Rowan.”
She pulls her own shirt over her head, and I have to clench my fists at my sides to stop myself from reaching out before she’s ready. I’ve seen her smile a thousand different ways, watched her cry, laugh, rage, but standing here, flushed and bare and unafraid, it hits me like nothing else ever has. She is fucking stunning. Simple as that.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I breathe, drinking her in. The pale blue lace of her bra looks perfect against her creamy skin, and my fingers burn with the urge to follow every curve, every freckle I’ve missed.
She reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra, letting it fall to the floor. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her bare, perky tits.
